


Running Round in Limbo

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, BDSM playdates, M/M, and sometimes the lack of it, character amnesia, character uses safeword, future!fic, kink negotiation and communication, kink:24/7, kink:D/s, putting the d/s in bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 44,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the gleekinkmeme prompt: "tl;dr: Kurt is amnesic and doesn't remember becoming Blaine's Dom, leaving sub!Blaine without a subspace."</p><p> </p><p>  <i></i><br/>“If you ever doubt that I love you,” Kurt said, insisting, “I want you to put this collar on and remember.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written by the lovely Whiskeytaintedcigarettes, who has since left fandom for personal reasons but gave permission for this fic to be archived on their behalf. <3

“Good morning, beautiful.”

 

Blaine smiled, pressing his face further into his pillow for just a moment, having never been much of a morning person, but finding himself incapable of not feeling just a little bit better at Kurt’s words whispered into his ear. He sighed, giving himself just another moment of softness before he turned onto his back, blinking his eyes open and finding Kurt standing above him. “G’morning,” he said back, words soft and cracked with sleep. Kurt smiled down at him fondly, reaching to brush a curl off of his forehead.

 

“You better get up soon or you’ll miss the 8:13 train,” Kurt said in return, tapping Blaine’s nose and laughing when Blaine crinkled it up. “C’mon. I even managed to save you some hot water.”

 

“My hero.” Blaine yawned, stretching out on the bed a little and wincing at some residual soreness before he settled back. After another moment of just lying there, he finally pushed himself up and out of the bed. He smirked a little when he caught Kurt staring at his naked body, ducking his head as he went over to the en suite, shutting the door behind him.

 

He showered quickly, figuring that the lack of a hot water comment was probably a hint that Kurt had maybe let him sleep in too much – and there had been a lot of that lately, Kurt indulging Blaine as they both became more and more stressed as Kurt’s opening night approached – taking the time to use the body wash that Kurt liked; the kisses always lasted longer when Blaine used it over the generic Old Spice he couldn’t quite part with. He sang quietly in the shower, turning the water off and toweling his body dry. He made quick work of brushing his teeth and finger combing a bit of product into his hair while letting it air dry, stepping out of the bathroom and grinning at the scene in front of him.

 

Laid out on the bed were a few articles of Blaine’s clothes; a pair of pants and a shirt with a sweater vest, and then three different bow ties for him to choose from. Beside the bow ties, Kurt had laid down three separate pairs of socks, and placed two different pairs of shoes at the floor beside the bed. Blaine smiled, moving over and carefully looking over the shirt and pant combination, fingers tracing over the patterns on the bowties before making his selection and quickly changing. He couldn’t help the tiniest bit of excitement that washed over him; he always found the days where Kurt didn’t lay out any underwear to be the best. It meant he had something to look forward to that night.

 

He tossed his towel into the hamper beside the door before he left the bedroom, making his way down the hallway into the kitchen. He smiled and pressed a kiss to Kurt’s cheek before he took the seat beside him, taking a large whiff of the breakfast on the plate in front of him. “Pancakes? My favorite.”

 

“I know.” Kurt hummed, licking his lips free of syrup before he reached over and smoothed out Blaine’s collar, adjusting the bowtie beneath. “I like this color on you.”

Blaine absolutely beamed at Kurt, crinkling his nose again as he turned his attention back down to his pancakes. He had made the right choice after all; whenever he picked out the right bowtie, Kurt always rewarded him with the same compliment. If he ended up with one of the ones Kurt had picked but hadn’t _picked_ , Kurt would reward him with an equally honest, “You look great today, Blaine.”

 

“Thank you, Sir,” he said quietly, and Kurt leaned over to press their lips together sweetly.

 

“You’re welcome,” Kurt said against his lips, kissing him once more before he pulled away and got up. He set his dish in the sink and moved to make his travel coffee mug. “Better hurry up, beautiful. You don’t want to miss your train.”

 

“I’m going, I’m going.” Blaine laughed, shaking his head as he finished off his pancakes and moved to set his own dishes in the sink. He smiled as Kurt placed a kiss to his lips, handing him a travel coffee mug. His body hummed quietly as Kurt traced his fingers down Blaine’s arm, coming to his wrist. He brought it up gently, pressing a kiss to the small leather cuff wrapped around his skin there.

 

“Have a good day, sweetheart,” he said quietly, squeezing his wrist. “I’m going to be home late – so just order whatever you want for dinner and pick a movie for us to watch when I get back, yeah?”

 

“Anything I want?”

 

“I trust you,” Kurt said with a smile. He kissed Blaine one more time before he moved away and out of the apartment, calling sweetly over his shoulder, “Love you!”

 

Blaine leaned back against the counter, bringing the travel mug up to his mouth. He took a sip and crinkled his nose again, smiling as he swallowed. Even after all these years, Kurt still knew his coffee order. “Love you too,” he murmured, leaving the apartment, the skin underneath his leather cuff still tingling.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

He couldn’t help but be a little relieved as the curtain finally closed on the cast’s final bow and the conductor slowly faded out the orchestra. After a while, the tux gets a little stiff, and he always looks forward to the break between the matinee and evening shows. Mike had gotten a dancing role in a show only a few blocks away; they would often meet in the middle for some sushi and a quick drink before both returning to their respective evening performances.

 

He was in the locker room, changing out of his tux when his phone buzzed. He rolled his eyes and picked it up, expecting it to be a silly picture of Mike’s face or even a well-wishing text from Kurt. Instead, he found 25 missed calls and a couple missed text messages from Burt.

 

Frowning, he hit the button on his phone to go to his voicemail, pressing the phone to his ear and holding it there with his shoulder as he stepped out of his tuxedo pants and into the jeans Kurt had picked out for him that morning.

 

_“Hello, sir, this is Eliza Dunkins with New York Presbyterian hospital. I’m calling because a Mr. Kurt Hummel was recently brought into our emergency care unit, and you are listed as next of kin. If you could please contact the hospital immediately-”_

 

A feeling of dread washed over him as he stood there, one leg inside of his pants, the other frozen mid-air. He fumbled for a moment, nearly dropping his phone, before he reached up and hit a random button, hoping to listen to the next message.

 

 _“Hey, bud, listen—“_ It was Burt, oh, God, “— _I know you’re probably at a show right now, but if ya could give me a call whenever y’get this, I’d appreciate it. Carole and I gotta call from the hospital, and we’re lookin’ for plane tickets right now – just wanted to touch base with you and find out if it’s necessary.”_

 

He fumbled again, hitting the next button, half-remembering that his pants were still around his ankles. He pulled them up, buttoning them quickly as Rachel’s voice came through the speakers next.

 

_“Blaine, listen. I just got a call from Carole, which was so strange and a little unnerving – she was once going to be my mother-in-law, and I don’t even really understand how she still has my number—“_

 

“Get to the point, Rachel,” he said into the phone, rolling his eyes at both himself for talking to his voicemail and at Rachel’s lovely ability to focus on everything but what was most important.

 

_“—but she said that Burt couldn’t get ahold of you; I informed them that you were in a matinee performance, so naturally your phone would be in your locker. That seemed to ease their confusion a bit – but, oh, Blaine. Please come to the hospital as quick as you can. Kurt got hit with a light during a rehearsal – it was a pretty bad concussion, and he’s not waking up and –“_

 

He finally did drop his phone, but he barely heard it clatter to the ground. He leaned forward and pressed his face against his locker. He was half-dressed, still, breathing heavily as he screwed his eyes closed. Bad concussion – light fell on his head – blood, there was probably blood everywhere, and Kurt hated blood and –

 

“Anderson, what the fuck are you doing?” Mark, the second chair violinist, came around the corner of lockers and stared at him. “You just going to stand there half naked the whole time, or were you planning on putting on a shirt?”

 

“Kurt’s in the hospital,” Blaine said, voice hoarse and – shit, when did he start shaking? He shook his head, shook his body, attempting to snap out of it. “A light fell on his head at rehearsal, and I just – I missed the call. Oh, God, I missed the call.”

 

 “Hey, hey,” Mark said, approaching Blaine as if he were a wounded animal. He had both hands raised up, and his voice was soft and a little hesitant. He reached out and carefully placed a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine tensed a little, and Mark removed his hand. “Come on. Put a shirt on and get some shoes on your feet, okay? I’m going to – go call a cab, alright? I’ll go call a cab, and you meet me upstairs. I’m sure Kurt’s fine.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Blaine said, immediately, snapping the words out and instantly regretting it. “Sorry – sorry, _fuck_.”

 

“Stop that, come on –“ Mark said, reaching into Blaine’s locker and pulling out his shirt. “It’s going to be alright. Kurt’s a feisty little spitfuck, yeah? You’re gonna get there, and he’s gonna glare at you from the hospital bed and bitch that your stupid bowtie isn’t straight.”

 

Bowtie. _“I like that color on you.”_ Fuck.

 

“Right,” Blaine said; his voice was a hoarse whisper, a mockery of how he usually sounds. He shakes his head and reaches in for the particular bowtie that Kurt had wanted him to wear this morning, fingering the design quietly. “Okay. Right.”

 

“Just – meet me upstairs, okay? I’m going to hail you a cab.” Mark repeated himself, squeezing Blaine’s bare shoulder again. Blaine nodded, swallowing the knot that had grown in his throat as best as he could. He closed his eyes for a minute when he heard Mark’s fading footsteps. He took a deep breath, centered himself.

 

“I have to be good,” Blaine whispered, shrugging his shirt on and quickly doing up the buttons. “I have to be strong. I have to be there for him.” It became a mantra, words said quickly over and over. “He needs me, now. I have to be there for him. Like he’s always there for me.” He was silently grateful that there was no one else around; he was embarrassed enough that Mark had seen him so out of his element, away from himself. To have more people witness it would just be the straw to break the camel’s back. He bent down and picked up his phone, sliding into his shoes as he examined it. He frowned a little at the cracked screen; he attempted to turn it on and sighed, quietly, when it didn’t even attempt to start itself back up again.

 

“Great,” he said, continuing to mutter to himself as he slipped the broken phone into his pants pocket. “Wonderful. Amazing. Perfect.” He kept repeating the words over and over as he walked up the stairs, nodding his thanks to Mark who held the door of the cab open for him.

 

“Fucking cheap bastard already started the till,” he said to Blaine, glowering at the driver in the front seat. “So you better get to the hospital quick.” He slapped his hand against the side of the car and they sped away. Blaine leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes.

 

_I have to be strong. I have to be good. I have to be there for him like he’s always been there for me. I have to be good. I have to be there for him as he’s always been –_

 

“Here – is this good?” the cab driver asked. Blaine pulled himself up and stared out the window, finding the entrance to the emergency room far too daunting to even consider. He made a noise in the back of his throat that the cab driver must have taken as approval because he hit a few buttons before turning to stare at Blaine insistently.

 

“Right, money,” he muttered, shaking his head again before he turned and pulled his wallet out of his pants. He thrust a couple twenties into his hand before he turned and got out of the car. The cab driver called out to him from the window, but Blaine ignored him; he had just tipped him rather generously. He didn’t have to stay around and listen to whatever he had to say anymore.

 

He walked in and immediately approached the front desk. “Hi – I’m Blaine Anderson? I – I got a call about – about Kurt Hummel?”

 

The nurse looked up at him from where she had been shuffling through paperwork. She took one look at him and nodded. “He’s in the ICU right now, sir. I’ll have to call up to see if he’s able to receive visitors.”

 

“ICU?” Blaine repeated, blinking at her.

 

“Just temporarily – sir, I’m not quite as in the know as the resident on staff for his case – if you’d just let me call up to see if they’ll receive you—“

 

“Yes, of – of course, Christ, I’m sorry – please.” He gestured at the phone weakly, shaking his head at himself and moving to stand off to the side, out of the way.

 

“Feel free to take a seat, sir,” she said as she dialed on the phone. “I’ll call you over when I know something.”

 

He moved over to the rest of the waiting room, taking a seat off to the corner. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows off of his knees, resting his head in his hands. The nurse gave him nothing; he had dropped the phone halfway through Rachel’s call and busted it, so it wasn’t as if he could call someone; and he wasn’t really sure that even the doctor would be able to tell him anything. Yes, he was listed as next of kin because he was paranoid and Kurt was incredibly accommodating, but maybe they’d wait until Kurt’s dad came in. He couldn’t even _call_ Kurt’s dad because of his busted phone, and Blaine –

 

Blaine just really needed Kurt to be okay. Blaine just really, really needed Kurt right then and there. He tugged on the leather cuff fastened around his wrist, tied there with an intricate knot specifically so Blaine couldn’t pull it off. He kept tugging at it, harder and harder, letting the feel of the leather cutting into his skin remind him that Kurt _was_ there. Kurt would always be there; that was what they had promised each other.

 

“Mr. Anderson?” The nurse called and Blaine was immediately on his feet, shuffling over to the desk. “You can go up now. Seventh floor, wing C. Ask for Doctor Richardson.”

 

“Seventh floor, wing C, Doctor Richardson,” he repeated, nodding to himself as he moved to the elevators beyond the desk. He kept repeating it quietly to himself, over and over; he watched the floor numbers grow. He reached the seventh floor and fumbled for a minute, glancing around before moving to a different nurse’s station.

 

“Wing C?” he asked and the nurse nodded his head, turning around to consider Blaine. “I’m looking for Doctor Richardson?”

 

“Ah.” The nurse nodded his head, turning to a phone on the wall. He pressed the receiver to his ear and dialed a number, waiting for a moment before dialing a different number. He hung up after a moment. “Just paged him. Are you here to see Mr. Hummel?”

 

“Kurt, yes.” Blaine nodded, wiping his sweating palms on his hands. “Please – I – can I please see him? I need to – I need to see him.”

 

The nurse pressed his lips together for a moment, considering him. “I’m supposed to have you wait to speak to the doctor, but –“

 

“Please,” Blaine said again, the word coming out strained. “Please.”

 

“Room 706B.” He gestured down the hall, and immediately Blaine was off, scanning numbers and doors until he found himself outside of Kurt’s. He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes.

 

_I have to be strong. I have to be good. I have to be there for him like he’s always been there for me._

 

He reached forward and opened the door, pressing his lips together to hold back a sob at the sight in front of him.

 

Kurt was there, laid up in the bed, looking terribly, terribly small against the stark white sheets. There was a wrapped bandage around his head, and bruises under his eyes. There were two IVs, one in his hand, the other in the crook of his elbow. There was a heart monitor attached to his index finger, and more tubes and wires and _things_ than Blaine have ever seen in his life. He has been on the opposite side, from slushies and bullies and school dances gone so, so wrong, but he hasn’t even witnessed this yet in his life; he has never been the one to stand by idly while _Kurt_ was hurt. He continued to stand there for a long moment, unsure of what to even do. Then there was a beeping, buzzing noise made by one of the machines, and Blaine quickly snapped out of it.

 

He shuffled forward immediately, taking the seat beside Kurt on the bed. He reached out and grabbed his hand instinctively, holding onto to it. Kurt didn’t move, didn’t change his position or do anything that might have signaled that he was aware of Blaine’s presence. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his forehead into Kurt’s hand. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

 

Kurt was going to be okay.

 

He had to be.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Doctor Richardson was a small, slight woman with soft hands and a soothing voice. Blaine knew these things because she had rubbed his back when Blaine had vomited into the nearest trash can after she had explained exactly what had happened and the steps the hospital had taken to fix the problems caused.

 

He was back in Kurt’s room, now, holding his hand while waiting for the buzzing in his ears to go down. Apparently, Kurt was struck in the front of his head when the light fell from about five feet above him; the tech had managed to grab part of the wire, slowing the fall, but not nearly enough to avoid Kurt getting hurt at all. The metal had broken the skin of Kurt’s head, causing a lot of blood – which was the point of the story where Blaine had maybe vomited, unable to really hold back both the memories of his own attacks and the visions of his beautiful Kurt bloodied from the forefront of his mind – that had been quickly fixed with a few stitches.

 

“He’s lucky,” Doctor Richardson had said to Blaine, and if Blaine wasn’t still attempting to wash the taste of vomit out of his mouth he probably would have said something instead of just merely wincing at the idea of his unconscious boyfriend being _lucky_ at anything. “There was no bruising of his actual brain – just a rather severe concussion. He’ll remain unconscious while his brain heals itself, but I suspect that he’ll be awake within the next couple of days.”

 

Blaine had refused to leave Kurt’s side as soon as the doctor had finished speaking. He had worked out an arrangement with the nurses on staff, then took up residency in the awful, uncomfortable chair at the head of Kurt’s bed. He sat there, holding his hand, sometimes talking, sometimes singing, sometimes just pressing his face into Kurt’s fingers and half-remembering the ghost of his touch against his face.

 

On the second day, Blaine was woken up by a rough hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice in his ear. “Y’know, kid,” Burt said while lowering himself into the chair beside him, “for how much the two of ya pay for those phones, the least you could do is answer a guy’s phone call.”

 

“Shit,” Blaine swore, looking between Burt and Carole who was standing on the opposite side of Kurt’s bed, quietly brushing her fingers over the hair surrounding the bandages. “I’m sorry – my phone’s actually broken.” He pulled the offending item out of his pocket, revealing the cracked, dark screen.

 

“I figured as much,” Carole said lightly, giving Burt a look before turning concerned eyes to Blaine. “I told him that something must have happened that you didn’t answer. We came as soon as we could.”

 

“Thank you.” Blaine barely managed to get the words out, his voice was still strained. He brought a hand up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, shaking himself a little. “I appreciate you both being here.”

 

“Have you gone home at all?” Carole asked with the tone of voice that made it perfectly clear that she already knew the answer. Blaine shook his head and he winced as he heard them both sigh.

 

“You should go home,” Burt said, the suggestion gentle and well-meaning. He leaned over and placed another reassuring hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Take a shower – take a nap. Go see if you can get a new phone.”

 

Blaine opened his mouth to protest – he should be _here_ , he should stay here so that was the first thing Kurt will see when he woke up – but Carole was giving him a look, and Burt’s grip had tightened on his shoulder. He sighed and let his head drop a bit, bringing a hand up to rub at his face.

 

“You have the house number – in case—”

 

“We will call the minute something happens.” Carole promised, and Burt nodded his head. Blaine let out another sigh.

 

“I’ll be back tonight, then,” Blaine said, pushing up and out of his chair. Without thinking, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Kurt’s cheek, reaching down to squeeze at his knee gently before he nodded his head one more time and left the room.

A shower, a nap, and a trip to the Verizon store later, and Blaine was at least clean and connected back to the technological world. He just didn’t feel right sleeping in their bed without Kurt spooned behind him; no matter how many pillows he wrapped around himself, no matter how dark he made the room, no matter how _exhausted_ he felt – he just couldn’t get to sleep. He had turned on the new cellphone to find even more missed messages; he just deleted his voicemail, called his job, called Rachel, and then called the place on the corner and ordered some Chinese food.

 

He sat in their living room, staring at the blank television, messily eating his Beef Lo Mein with chopsticks, trying not to think about how pissed Kurt would be if he did end up staining the sofa. He busied himself instead with little games; he mentally went through their movie collection, attempting to pick out the perfect movie to suggest to watch once Kurt got out of the hospital and, undoubtedly, needed to take things easy for a while. He had finished going through the movies that began with the letter “B” by the time he had gotten to the bottom of his carton. He cracked open his soda and finished it off quickly, wiping at his mouth before going to take care of the garbage.

 

He clenched and unclenched his fingers as he stood in the kitchen with nothing to do; Carole had sent him a text saying that they would refuse to let him into the room if he came any earlier than seven o’clock. _You need some rest yourself. Take a break. We’ll call you if anything changes._ Blaine hated being in their apartment without Kurt, but he found himself incapable of disobeying Carole’s request. He knew that she had his best intentions at heart.

 

He blinked, still standing in the entryway between the kitchen and the living room. He shook himself a little, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. It was five o’clock. He could go lay down for another hour, then walk the thirty blocks or so to the hospital –because that would give him some time to clear his head – and then still be there a bit early. He took in a large breath and let it out, nodding.

 

_“Breathe, beautiful,” Kurt said, leaning over Blaine’s body as he pinned him there, hands tight around his wrists where he’s holding them down on either side of Blaine’s head. He’s sitting on Blaine’s chest, watching him quietly, eyes calculating Blaine’s response and his corresponding next move. “I need you to stay with me, sweetheart. Come on – deep breaths.”_

 

He moved into the bedroom, and took another look at the bed before making up his mind. There was no way he’d get in any more sleep without Kurt there. He stayed there for a moment, considering. His body shook with it a little, the realization that the first thought to cross through his mind – the first thing he really thought about when wondering what he should do – was to wonder what Kurt would _want_ him to do. What Kurt might like if he did. What would make Kurt the happiest when he woke up.

 

He remembered his small, frail body on that hospital bed in nothing but the itchy, uncomfortable hospital gown. It came to him as quickly as the image, and he moved immediately into their closet, setting about packing up an overnight bag full of Kurt’s clothes and other things he might want or need once he woke up. Once content with what he had packed, he glanced at the clock and groaned when he saw the time – five fifteen. He had barely passed any time.

 

He stood there again, staring around the room, wondering if there was maybe something else he should do – straighten up? No, it seemed pretty tidy. Change the sheets? Kurt usually did that. He had a particular way of doing it, and Blaine wouldn’t want to upset him by screwing it up. Dust? The room was spotless.

 

His fingers itched again, and they curled and uncurled into fists, his right hand immediately going to his left wrist where his leather cuff still fit snugly round. He pulled on it, licked his lips, and made up his mind. He moved over to their dresser, fingers tracing along the outside of the drawers before he opened one. He took a deep breath and pulled it out, fingers reverently tracing along the intricate design.

 

_Beautiful_. It was stitched right into the leather, there forever, marking Blaine as Kurt’s. He tightened his hold on the collar, taking another deep breath before he let it out slowly. Gingerly, he raised the collar up and fastened it around his neck without locking it – he couldn’t reach the lock, and that was probably half the point, but Kurt always left the collar where Blaine could find it, in case he needed it.

 

When the buckled was fastened and the leather was tight around his neck again, it was like something within Blaine shifted. He relaxed, shuffling over to the bed and falling to his knees beside it, leaning forward and pressing his face into the side of the mattress, breathing out.

 

_“Such a good boy,” Kurt said, voice a whisper as he ran his fingers through Blaine’s hair over and over, nails digging into his scalp. He dipped his fingers down and ran them along the edge of the collar, dragging his nail all the way around Blaine’s neck, causing him to shiver. “My beautiful, perfect boy. Always so good for me – always so good to me. I love you, sweetheart.”_

 

_“I love you, too, Sir,” Blaine said, response immediate like he had been born to say nothing else his entire life._

 

_“I believe you,” Kurt said, tone thoughtful, considering. “Do you believe me, sweetheart? Do you believe me when I say that I love you?”_

 

_That hadn’t been a question Blaine had been expecting, and it threw him for a moment. He stayed quiet as Kurt’s fingers found their way back to his hair, free of gel at Kurt’s request, curls untamed and all the better for Kurt to run his fingers through. Kurt didn’t say anything, remained quiet and patient as he let Blaine think. “Of course I do,” he said, a little harsh, adamant. Kurt nodded his head, tapped at the side of Blaine’s jaw for a moment. Then, he pressed his fingers under his chin, tilting Blaine’s face until he was looking at him._

 

_“If you ever doubt that I love you,” Kurt said, insisting, “I want you to put this collar on and remember.” He tugged at the collar, pulling Blaine further up off the ground. He leaned down and caught his lips in a kiss, pressing back. Blaine scrambled for a moment, rested his hands on Kurt’s knees. Kurt pulled away and stroked his thumb over Blaine’s cheek. “If you ever need to remember just how much I love you, I want you to put this collar on and remember that you’re **mine**.”_

 

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine whispered, then, pressing his face into the mattress of the bed again. He took another deep breath, and let it out slowly. He kept doing that, remaining calm, remaining in the moment. It kept him from starting to cry again. “I’m yours. I’m Yours. I’m –“

 

He took another deep breath and let it out, continuing for another long moment, letting himself calm down. He wrapped himself in the feeling of wearing the collar, wrapped himself in the feeling of being loved, of being _Kurt’s_ , of being _beautiful_.

 

_“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Kurt whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Blaine’s forehead. “I’ve got you. I always have you.”_

 

So Blaine just knelt there for a while, and forced himself to remember.

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

It had been harder and harder as the days wore on for Burt and Carole to convince Blaine to leave Kurt’s side, but they persisted until Blaine found himself on the subway heading back to his empty apartment. For a while, he would fool himself into thinking that things were normal; he would cook dinner for himself and sit down on their couch. He would watch the shows that were recorded on the DVR, check his phone for messages that he didn’t bother listening to anyway. He was mostly just killing a reasonable amount of time before he found himself back in their bedroom, fingers tracing over the soft grooves of his collar before he’d refasten it around his neck. He would kneel beside the bed for a while, and sometimes he’d settle under the covers and sleep as much as his body would allow before his brain caught up and would startle him awake.

 

It was there, three days later, that Blaine got the call.

 

He was kneeling beside the bed, face pressed into the mattress, breathing shallowly as he tried not to think about each hour Kurt had spent unconscious – seventy-four hours, thirty-four minutes – when the shrill ring of the house phone disrupted his thoughts. He stood up immediately, stumbling over lazy feet as he shuffled out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, ripping the phone off of the hook and pressing it to his ear –

 

“He’s awake?” He demanded to know, forgoing any type of greeting. He relaxed a little at Burt’s soft chuckle, the noise soothing the panic that had started to build in his chest.

 

“Yeah, kid,” Burt said softly, and Blaine figured he was probably still in the room or in another part of the hospital that required him to be quiet. He let out a breath and leaned against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the kitchen floor, back against the wall. “Woke up ‘bout an hour ago – and before you get on my case, he wouldn’t let me leave the room until the doctors finished checking him out.”

 

Blaine closed his eyes and nodded, laughing a little, the sound choked around a sob. Kurt had always hated doctors, had always hated having too many hands in too many places, poking and prodding and making things worse instead of better. He let out another shaky breath and nodded again, only half-aware that Burt couldn’t see him do so. “I’m on my way.”

 

“Good, good,” Burt said, voice warm and fond and _relaxed_ , and it was making this all the more easier on Blaine because if Burt was relaxed that meant that Kurt was fine, everything was fine, it was _good_. “Take your time. Be careful. He’s askin’ for ya, and I’d hate to deliver ya to him in a wheelchair, y’hear me?”

 

“Yes – yes, Burt,” Blaine said, laughing a little, _giddy_ , but Kurt was awake. Kurt was awake and Blaine could finally breathe again. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

“We’ll be waiting.” Then they hung up after another few moments of awkwardly attempting to find another suitable way to hang up on each other without appearing rude. Blaine stood up and shakily ran a hand through his hair – greasy and disgusting, he should probably shower – before he dragged it down his face and rested it against the leather on his neck. As much as Blaine was sure Kurt would appreciate the sight of his collar, he figured Kurt wouldn’t appreciate the awkward conversation that would most likely follow with Burt and Carole also present. He laughed a little, shaking his head, figuring that it didn’t matter if he had to take it off now, they’d have all the time later, and _Kurt was okay_.

 

He moved into the bedroom, unfastening the collar and tossing it onto the bed, moving into the en suite and quickly undressing. He took the fastest shower of his life before stepping out and quickly toweling off, forgoing any kind of hair product in favor of quickly dressing in some loose-fitting jeans and a t-shirt. He slid on a pair of loafers and quickly made his way out of the apartment, nearly forgetting to lock the door behind him before he tore down the stairs and onto the street.

 

He hailed a cab and nearly shouted the address at the driver, vibrating in the backseat with nerves and excitement. He threw a couple bills at the driver once they had pulled up, rushing out of the cab and up into the building, nodding at familiar faces as he made his way up to Kurt’s wing, darting down the hall to his room as quickly as his legs would take him. Burt was standing just outside the door, speaking in low tones with Dr. Richardson. Blaine knew he should stop, maybe listen, gain some advice, but one quick look at Burt and he had already made the decision to bypass the conversation and instead immediately step into the room.

 

His chest was heavy with lack of breath, and Blaine took his first real breath when he saw Kurt’s beautiful blue eyes open and staring right back at him as he entered. He let it out shakily, stumbling forward to sit beside him on the bed, feet barely working, his mind barely able to focus on more than one thing at a time; right now it was so focused on Kurt, Kurt, Kurt that he could hardly think about something as inane as _walking_.

 

“Hi,” he whispered, shakily, reaching out and grabbing Kurt’s hand in his. For the first time in days, Kurt squeezed back.

 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Kurt whispered back, his voice hoarse with lack of use. Blaine reached out immediately to the side table, grabbing the cup filled with water. He raised it to Kurt’s lips and helped him take a sip. Then, unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a soft, chaste kiss.

 

“Fuck, I missed you,” Blaine said, breathing the admission right back into Kurt’s lips. Kurt laughed a pitiful, broken little laugh, voice rough with a sore throat and three days too much sleep. He shook his head and brought a hand up, fingers stroking the rough stubble on Blaine’s chin.

 

“I’ve been here,” he said slowly, focusing on each word, and Blaine couldn’t bring himself to care that it didn’t sound quite right, quite normal, because it still sounded like Kurt. “Missed you, too.”

 

“You scared me.” It wasn’t easy for Blaine to admit that, not with Carole hovering in the corner, pretending she couldn’t hear –not with the door to the room open with Burt and the doctor and half a staff of nurses just right outside. Blaine was only ever able to admit what he was truly feeling when it was just them – when there were other things at play, when it wasn’t always his choice but rather his duty to admit what he was feeling. Still, three days had felt like an eternity, and he couldn’t bring himself to hold back when he had come so close to losing it all. “I thought you were leaving me.”

 

Kurt stared at him for a moment, face falling a little. His eyes were still a little bruised and he looked impossibly tiny with the bandage taking up most of the space on his head, but he still managed to look large and powerful and so much like his Kurt that Blaine was comforted by that single glare alone. Kurt licked his lips, shook his head, and said firmly, “I never would –“ he struggled for a moment, and Blaine waited, squeezing his hand. “Promises I can’t keep – could never. Never want to leave you.”

 

 “The doctor said he might have a problem finishing his sentences at first,” Carole said quietly from her position in the corner. She hovered for a moment, looking unsure of herself, before she nodded. “I’m going to go get a cup of coffee. I’ll bring you back a cup, Blaine.”

 

“Thanks,” he said over his shoulder, distracted, still watching Kurt. Kurt smiled at him, squeezed his hand again, and relaxed into the pillows behind him.

 

“I love you,” he said in a soft, fond voice, and Blaine felt like his face was going to fall off with how largely he was smiling. It didn’t matter that the past three days had been the longest, most painful in his experience, or that there were some possible setbacks that they’d have to work through. Now that Kurt was awake, they’d be able to work through them as they always had: together. Now that Kurt was awake, it didn’t matter how bleak the past few days had looked, everything in the future seemed impossibly bright with the promise that things could and would eventually go back to normal.

 

Kurt was awake, and things were going to be just fine.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

After Carole had come back with the coffee, the day had turned into a blur of conversations – conversations with Kurt, with Burt and Carole, with doctors and nurses. Blaine listened in as he was told of possible complications, and steps that would need to be taken before Kurt could be released. Then there was a conversation with Burt and Carole about who would do what to help Kurt in his recovery – which ultimately led to a conversation with Kurt about what he wanted from whom. Kurt had been adamant that Blaine go back to work; he understood his need to be there, but would rather one of them not spend an extraordinary amount of time in a hospital. There had been resistance on Blaine’s part, but, eventually, he had acquiesced to Carole and Burt helping Kurt relearn how to walk and going over flash cards and helping him figure out how long he’d need before he could go back to work.

 

Instead, Blaine spent the next couple of days back at work; first he had caught everyone up on Kurt’s situation, and then slid right back into place in the pit, throwing himself into the music in a way that had initially thrown everyone for a loop. Mark had taken him out for coffee after that initial matinee, making Blaine talk until he was all talked out, relaxed and languid in his chair, rolling his eyes and laughing at terrible jokes.

 

“Jesus, I could have broken your back with a fucking feather, Anderson,” Mark had pressed, leaning forward and poking harshly at Blaine’s arm. “So fucking uptight – I _told you_ he was going to be okay.”

 

“Yeah, well.” Blaine waved his hand a little, dismissing the very thought, picking up his coffee and taking a long, relishing sip of it.

 

“Just – look, man, I give you a lot of shit, but I’m here, okay?” Mark said, ducking his head down a bit, attempting to catch Blaine’s eye. “Seriously. If you ever need to talk – or just need someone to vent at or scream at or – hell, if you need someone to scream at you. I’m here.”

 

“Thanks,” Blaine said, sincerely, glancing up and offering him a smile. “I – I’ve never quite been good at – at keeping friends. So. Thanks.”

 

“Don’t have to worry about that, Anderson,” Mark laughed, waving his hand around. “I’m like herpes. Stuck with you for life.”

 

Blaine had left the coffee shop to go back to Kurt, spending the evenings that he didn’t have performances nestled into Kurt’s side, quietly reading him the articles from Backstage and highlighting possible auditions for him like they used to do when they were both back in college and had moved on from trashy tabloids to something only slightly more dignified.

 

“There’s no way in hell I’m auditioning for that alien movie, Blaine,” Kurt insisted, laughing as he half-heartedly pushed at the Blaine’s left hand, the one that was precariously holding the bright yellow marker.

 

“It could be your big break, though!” Blaine laughed back, crinkling his nose up as he circles the audition anyway. He shifted on the bed, sliding down so that he could rest his head on Kurt’s shoulder, sighing happily as he turned the page to the next list of possible auditions for union actors.

 

“I highly doubt it,” Kurt responded, sighing. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Blaine’s head, resting there a minute. “I ate solid food today.” He whispered the words into Blaine’s curls, and Blaine shivered a little. He reached out and gently grasped Kurt’s thigh.

 

“Which means you’re coming home tomorrow?”

 

“The day after, I think,” Kurt agreed. He placed his hand on top of Blaine’s and gently squeezed it, twining their fingers together. “Think they’ll let you get the day off?”

 

“I’ll quit before missing it,” Blaine said, voice firm and resolute. He squeezed Kurt’s hand back. Kurt shook his head at Blaine, turning his head to press another kiss to his temple. Blaine just closed his eyes and took a deep breath and cherished it, mind still attempting to wrap around the several days of missing this exact feeling.

 “You can’t do that,” Kurt chided him gently, nudging Blaine’s shoulder with his own. “Someone in this relationship needs to make rent.”

 

Blaine laughed. “So, now I’m your sugar daddy?” Kurt laughed, too, his face crinkling around the corners.

 

“I like the sound of that, yes, actually.”

 

Blaine pressed himself closer to Kurt as they both fell into a giggle fit, only getting louder when a nurse had come in to see what all the fuss was about. They fell into each other, crowding the tiny hospital bed as they slept together for the last time like this, with too little space to hold them both.

 

They had been woken up the next morning by doctors and nurses flitting around the room, doing their final checks to make sure Kurt was stable enough to go home. Blaine had excused himself from the room to make the appropriate phone calls to work, beaming as he was offered his congratulations for Kurt’s recovery. He was buzzing with nervous energy as he made his way back to the room, leaning against the wall to remain out of the way as the doctors went over the paperwork with Kurt and Burt. Carole had come over to him at some point, speaking in low tones with him, offering him quiet advice for what to do once Kurt got home; they were staying just a few more days, just long enough to make sure they both got settled back into real life just fine before they’d inevitably make it back to Ohio.

 

Blaine wondered if Carole was aware of just how much he wasn’t really listening, was just sort of nodding along to whatever was being said, eyes focused on Kurt. Home. Kurt was coming home, and things were going to go back to normal, and he could sleep in his bed again without feeling lonely and cold and wrong. He turned his gaze away from her when she grabbed his arm, raising an eyebrow at her. She was smiling at him, shaking her head.

 

“Promise me you’ll listen to the doctor a bit better than me, Blaine,” she asked, and he blushed. She shook her head at him, clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Sometimes, I look at the two of you, and it’s easy to forget that you’re both adults because you still look like the two teenage boys squashed together on that awful couch in our old living room, completely oblivious to anything that wasn’t each other.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice a whisper. Carole rolled her eyes.

 

“I never said that it was a bad thing, Blaine.” She nudged his shoulder with hers. “A little inconvenient, sometimes, but only because you two haven’t tied the knot yet, and I can’t quite scold someone who isn’t my son just yet.”

 

He blushed and turned back to look at Kurt again. “Soon,” he promised her, as he has been promising her for some time, now, because he has to. Their reasoning for still remaining unmarried wasn’t something that he could actively discuss with his boyfriend’s stepmother, but nearly losing Kurt had put things into a new perspective. Maybe this wasn’t an empty promise anymore.

 

Soon, the paperwork was signed and a nurse was wheeling Kurt out of the room toward the elevator. Doctor Richardson had stopped Blaine from following for a minute, speaking to him in a low voice. “We haven’t yet noticed any particular slips in his memory,” she said to him, gesturing down to her notes on Kurt’s file, “but that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re in the clear. It’s possible that being home and back to his usual routine could bring to light certain lapses. If you discover anything, please – don’t hesitate to call.”

 

“Thank you, Doctor Richardson. For everything,” Blaine said, sincerely, pocketing her card and smiling at her. She smiled back at him.

 

“I’ll see you in a week or so for his check-up.” She nodded, extending her hand for Blaine to shake. He nodded one more time, letting go and stepping into the elevator with the rest of the family, relaxing against the back wall as they were taken downstairs to Burt’s waiting car.

The ride over was mostly quiet, save for the discussion of whether or not Carole and Burt felt up to staying for dinner. There was some good-hearted teasing about “possible catching up” Blaine and Kurt needed to do, and Blaine had blushed and ducked his head while Kurt had squawked indignantly at the very idea that they would immediately go home and sleep together. Blaine reached out and squeezed Kurt’s knee with a laugh, though had to admit to being just a little disappointed that they weren’t going to do just that.

 

It was decided that Burt and Carole would meet them in the morning for brunch instead, and they had said their good-byes at the curb outside of their building before Blaine helped Kurt inside and up the three flights of stairs to their apartment. He turned the key and opened the door, helping Kurt inside before he turned and closed the door, locking it behind them.

 

“God, I was almost expecting this place to be an absolute sty,” Kurt said, tone teasing as he brushed past Blaine and into the apartment.

 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Blaine said, returning the jest with a tone of fake hurt. Kurt laughed as he dragged his fingers over the countertops, turning to look at Blaine with a small smile.

 

“Take-out? Please?” he asked, begging a little. Blaine laughed and nodded, moving closer and kissing him. “You pick – I’m going to go change out of these clothes. Just – ugh, need to not feel like I spent three days in the same thing. And – maybe a movie, too. I don’t quite want to go to bed yet. ”

 

“Yes, Kurt.” Blaine laughed, gently pushing him toward the bedroom as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his contacts for that Thai place around the corner with the noodles Kurt adored. He watched as Kurt shuffled into the bedroom and let out a sigh. He leaned against the counter, feeling some sense of normalcy as he listened to the hold music on the line. This had been where they had left off, with Blaine ordering dinner and the promise of a movie on the horizon. He was quietly placing their usual order when Kurt had called out to him from the bedroom. He quickly finished up before hanging up the phone, frowning. “What?”

 

“I know that the doctor said I’d probably forget something somewhere,” Kurt called back, his voice coming closer. Blaine pushed himself off of the counter and moved to meet him halfway, turning down the very slight hallway in their apartment toward the master bedroom. “but you’d think I’d remember us having a dog.”

 

“A dog?” Blaine repeated, frowning as he finally moved to the bedroom. He turned the handle and opened it. “But we don’t have a dog—”

 

The realization hit him the moment the words were out of his mouth, but nothing – absolutely nothing – could have prepared him for the sight of Kurt holding his collar in his hands, frowning down at it as if it’s very existence offended him.

 

He couldn’t breathe.

 

He couldn’t think.

 

Words failed him as he took in the sight, the look of pure confusion on Kurt’s face as he held up the collar, fingers tight around the rich black leather, covering up half of the embroidered “Beautiful”, his other hand playing gently with the lock in the back.

 

“What’s this, then?” Kurt finally asked, and Blaine closed his eyes as if he had been physically struck.

 

He didn’t remember.

 

Kurt didn’t remember who he was – who they were to each other.

 

For a very brief moment, Blaine thought that maybe it would have hurt less if Kurt hadn’t woken up. Then he immediately felt guilty, because how could he possibly think about something like that. His breathing picked up, and he reached up a hand to rub at his face, knowing that Kurt was watching him and wondering what he should possibly do, because it wasn’t like he could just _tell_ Kurt what that was, and he –

 

“Blaine?”

 

“It’s Mike’s,” Blaine said the first thing that popped into his head, blurting the words out so fast that they literally felt like word vomit. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, “Mike’s surprising – surprising Tina with a dog, and I’ve been holding onto the – the collar for him. So that she doesn’t find out.”

 

“Oh,” Kurt breathed out, sticking out his lower lip as he considered it, turning his attention back down to the collar. Blaine was thankful that Kurt was allowing him his minor freak out, wasn’t commenting on the fact that Blaine was moments away from hyperventilating. “Just – seems like such a strange collar for a dog.”

 

“Well, you know Tina and her love for –“ Blaine broke off, really unable to finish that thought, because it would mean he’d have to classify what _they_ did as strange and he couldn’t – he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t strange. It just _wasn’t_.

 

But how could Kurt _forget_?

 

Kurt hummed, dropping the collar down on the bed again, shaking his head a little and turning to Blaine with a smile. “You ordered the food?”

 

Blaine was thrown for a moment by the sudden shift in conversation, but managed to nod. Kurt smiled.

 

“Good. I think I’m going to shower – I’ll be out in a little bit.”

 

“M – Mind your stitches,” Blaine muttered, and Kurt nodded, still smiling.

 

“It’s good to be home,” he sighed as he passed Blaine to walk into the en suite. Blaine let out a breath once the door was closed, eyes focused on the collar on the bed again.

 

“Yeah,” he choked out, dragging his feet over and picking it up. He held onto it tightly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Yeah,” he repeated, nodding his head, despite the fact that it no longer felt like home.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

It had taken a long moment before Blaine was able to move, pulling himself physically away from the wall and shuffling forward toward the bed. He sat down for a moment, picking up the collar and holding it in his hands. He could hear the shower running in the en suite, knew he probably didn’t have a lot of time before Kurt would be back and wondering exactly what Blaine was doing on the bed.

He traced his finger across the word embroidered there, licking his lips as he considered what to do next. He had to hide it; that much was obvious. He couldn’t get rid of it, but he figured it wouldn’t help if Kurt kept finding the collar lying around. He sat there, listening to Kurt in the shower – not singing, which usually meant something was wrong, but Blaine figured that maybe Kurt was just upset that he had forgotten about something (or maybe Kurt had forgotten that he likes to sing in the shower, and, Christ, now Blaine couldn’t stop thinking about all the other things Kurt might have forgotten). He made up his mind just as he heard the shower turn off.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bag of items the hospital had given to him that very first night, enclosed in a little Ziploc bag. Anything metal on Kurt had been removed so that the appropriate tests could have been executed. He reached in and pulled out a thin necklace chain with a two keys on the end. He knew one key was to the lock on his collar, and the other was to a trunk that Blaine had been previously forbidden from opening. He pushed himself off of the bed and moved to the foot, where the large, vintage trunk sat.

It took him a while to do it; kneeling before the trunk and listening quietly to the various caps open and close in the bathroom – twenty minutes, he knew he had exactly twenty minutes for Kurt to finish his whole routine. He had never before directly disobeyed an order so purposefully before this moment, and it was hard for him to muster up the courage to do it. What if Kurt hadn’t forgotten what they are to each other? What if he had just forgotten that Blaine had been collared?

That could be it. It had taken Kurt a while to get to the point where he had wanted to collar Blaine; Blaine had always wanted it, but Kurt had been reluctant at first. Kurt had always been reluctant; at first, wavering on the side of not knowing how whatever new element would affect their relationship. It had taken them a good couple of years before Kurt was the one introducing new ideas to their relationship, and maybe it was just – maybe he forgot about the collar because he hadn’t wanted it for so long and maybe a subconscious part of him still didn’t want it and –

No, no, this wasn’t good. He took another deep breath, trying to calm the shaking in his hands. Blaine didn’t know shit about amnesia or memory loss – was it really called amnesia outside of the movies? – because he was a pianist. He was a pianist who watched House MD DVDs with Kurt and therefore didn’t know much more about modern medicine than the random jargon tossed into the plots that focused mostly on a drug addiction (and, really, he mostly just watched because he had a weird crush on Hugh Laurie that he couldn’t explain). He knew nothing about memory loss, so playing this guessing game was only going to make things worse instead of better.

His hands were shaking, still, when he finally moved and unlocked the trunk. He opened it up and immediately closed his eyes. He had never seen inside of it, had never been allowed to go inside of the trunk before – he still wasn’t now, and that only made his hands shake more. He opened his eyes and his breath caught in his chest at the sight of all of their toys, their cuffs, the silk scarves and delicate ropes and – he closed his eyes one more time, but this time he was fighting back a smile.

Naturally, Kurt had everything color-coordinated and alphabetized. Heaven forbid the paddles be beside the whips. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, carefully considering the way Kurt had it organized. With a nod, he leaned forward and gently placed the collar inside, fingers brushing over the embroidery before he shut the lid to the trunk and relocked it. He took another deep breath before he put the necklace on himself, tucking the keys inside of his shirt. If Kurt remembered, he’d ask for it back. If he asked for it back, Blaine would give it to him. If Kurt realized what Blaine had done, Blaine would be punished, as he should be. As he needed to be. All Kurt had to do was ask for his keys back.

“Ugh,” Kurt’s voice came from the bathroom, behind the closed door. Blaine leaned his head forward and pressed it into the trunk, the guilt tearing at his stomach already. “I have missed my moisturizers. I literally feel like I’m peeling the hospital right off my skin.”

“Yeah,” Blaine called back, because he didn’t know what else to really say.

He was saved by the doorbell, signaling that the food had arrived. He stood up and moved back through their apartment to the front door, digging out his wallet as he paid the delivery boy for the food, tipping him generously – Kurt had always said he was too generous – before shutting the door with his hip. “Food’s here,” he said, shouting the words over his shoulder as he moved the food to the coffee table. He started meticulously organizing the contents, placing all the things Kurt liked in one area and all the things he liked in another, anything they both mutually liked went in the middle.

He slid down onto the floor, pulling one of the boxes closer to himself. He pulled out a pair of chopsticks, starting to eat.

“What are you doing on the floor?” Kurt asked as he finally came back into the living room, his hair wet. Blaine froze, turning to look at him. “That can’t be comfortable.”

“I – I prefer it down here,” Blaine said quietly, shrugging, attempting to play it off.

“If you say so,” Kurt said back, raising his eyebrows a little. He leaned forward and picked up one of his cartons of Thai food, popping open the container. Blaine couldn’t help it, didn’t even attempt to stop it –

“We usually sit like this,” he blurted out, voice right on the edge of near-hysterical. Kurt turned his head up, looking at Blaine, startled. He licked his lips and wiped at the corner of his mouth, shaking his head a little. Kurt was quiet for another long moment, furrowing his brows.

Then – “What a weird thing for me to forget.”

Blaine choked a little on the bite of food in his mouth, but somehow managed to swallow. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, figuring – maybe one more test.

“You’ve been through a lot, Sir,” he said quietly, the word feeling wrong on his tongue and the minute it’s out of his mouth he can hear Kurt’s sharp intake of breath –

“Blaine, are you – are you okay?” Kurt asked quietly, concerned. He reached out and placed a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “You’re acting – weird.”

He was acting normal. This was all normal and now – now it wasn’t. Kurt didn’t remember. He didn’t remember the collar. He didn’t remember the little things that made Blaine happy. He didn’t remember what he was to Blaine at all. Kurt had wanted Blaine to pick a name, something to call him when he needed him the most, when he absolutely needed one hundred percent of Kurt’s attention. Over the years, it had morphed into more than that – it was a term of endearment. A way to solidify the exact way Kurt made him feel.

And Kurt had forgotten after the accident.

Blaine was anything other than fine. For the second time that night, he found himself in a position deserving of punishment. He turned to Kurt, looked him right in the eye, and lied. “Just overwhelmed, I think. I’ll be fine.”

Kurt squeezed his shoulder and leaned back in the couch, going back to his dinner. Blaine took a deep breath and let it right back out, tilting his head down, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Kurt wasn’t going to punish him, but that didn’t make him feel any better. If anything, it made him feel like he was already suffering the worst punishment already.

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Blaine spent the rest of the night in a haze, deflecting Kurt’s questions and curling further upon himself as the movie wore on. Eventually, he chalked it up to needing to be up early the next morning for a little bit of rehearsal time before brunch with Kurt’s parents – another lie, but he wanted to go to bed early without too many questions. Blaine curled up on his side of the bed with Kurt pressed behind him, which was normal, but without the lingering good-bye kiss on his wristband or any of their other nightly routines. Kurt used to spend nights just sitting against the headboard, reading aloud from a book while Blaine curled up beside him, head in his lap. Kurt would run his fingers through Blaine’s hair; sometimes he’d be gagged or bound, but most of the time he was just soft and languid, pressed into Kurt’s side.

That night, Kurt spent twenty minutes debating what he was going to wear to brunch the next day and another ten applying a few more skin treatments. He brushed his teeth and combed leave-in conditioner into his damp hair. He put on a pair of pajamas Blaine hadn’t seen in months – a set, with long sleeves, made of silk. Blaine merely stayed on his side of the bed and watched, mouth hanging open a little.

It was literally as if Kurt had just picked right back up on his nightly routine the way it had been while they had gone to college, had lived together after graduation. He knew that Kurt hadn’t regressed at all; the entire time he had flit from one side of the room to the other, he had been talking emphatically about how he wanted to immediately jump right back into rehearsals. Yes, they were going to pay him really great money to not sue their asses, and he wasn’t in any actual danger of losing his job, “But, Blaine, you don’t get it – _I_ was supposed to _originate_ that role. Not my fucking understudy who can’t remember Stage Right from Stage Left despite her degree in Musical Theatre.”

Blaine had hummed a response and Kurt had paused to look at him. Kurt sighed and leaned back into their closet, comparing his shoes to the clothes draped over his arm. “If it’s bothering you this much, Blaine, you should call and see if we can move the appointment up sooner. I really don’t understand why you’re so freaked out about these tiny little things. I didn’t forget anything important, did I?”

“It’s not what you forgot, it’s how much you seem to have forgotten,” Blaine said, another lie. He winced, letting out a sigh as he rubbed at his face tiredly. Kurt didn’t say anything, just watched Blaine for another moment before he shrugged.

“Then call the doctor,” he said as if the answer was seriously that simple. Blaine nodded, gesturing that he would, and there was another long pause before Kurt spoke again. “You’d tell me if it was something really important, Blaine, right?”

“Of course I would,” Blaine said, fast and definite in his response. Kurt seemed satisfied enough, and Blaine was thankful when he turned off the lights and grabbed Blaine from behind. They curled up on the bed, Blaine wrapped in Kurt’s arms, and the only reason he eventually fell asleep was because of how little he had slept in the few days prior to that night.

Still, it hadn’t really sunken in that things were different – really, _really_ different – until that next morning, when Blaine was woken up by Kurt’s alarm clock for the first time in, well, years. He groaned and rolled over, throwing an arm out as if to turn it off; he buried his face in his pillow to keep from biting out a sharp retort when Kurt started to laugh.

“God, Blaine,” Kurt said as he walked over to turn off the alarm. Blaine sighed, happily, relaxing back into the bed. “I’m getting weird deja-vu from college.” He was teasing, Blaine knew, but it still hurt. It wasn’t even the joke itself that was killing Blaine; it was the fact that it wasn’t really a joke at all. Blaine muffled his agreement into the pillow before he turned his head and sighed. Kurt was right; this felt just like college – back before that first accidental night, back before they had sat down and talked things out. Back in college, the type of relationship that they had had up until a week prior hadn’t even been a thought in either of their minds –

Lie. Blaine had always sort of wanted it, but he hadn’t known how to ask. He had been lucky that Kurt had just asked first, instead. Now, he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“Dad called – said they’ll be here in about twenty minutes,” Kurt said as he exited their bedroom. Blaine turned a little, frowning as he heard Kurt puttering around in the kitchen, probably making coffee.

“Do I have time for a shower?” Blaine called back, biting his lip.

“I don’t know – do you?” Kurt responded. Blaine fell back against the pillows, burying his face there as he tried not to scream. He took a few deep, calming breaths, breathing in Kurt’s scent, before he pushed himself up and out of the bed. He shuffled to the door, leaning out to tell Kurt that he was, in fact, showering before he shuffled into the en suite.

He took a quick shower, working mostly on auto-pilot, still half-asleep, half-wired by the weird, out-of-place wake-up. He figured he should probably just get out when he nearly washed his hair with body gel; he shook his head at himself after he turned off the water, stepping out and quickly toweling off. He brushed his teeth and ran a little bit of product through his hair. He stepped out of the bathroom and froze, blinking as he stood in the doorway.

The bed was just how he left it, blankets a mess, sheets a tangled heap. It took him a minute to process the sight; Kurt usually had the bed made by the time he finished in the shower. Kurt usually had laid out Blaine’s outfit with his bow-tie and sock choices left at the very end, three or four different kinds. Kurt usually had his shoes settled at the foot of the bed.

He moved away from the bathroom, shivering a little; he was completely unaware as to whether it was because of the cool air or because of the serious change to his morning routine, but he slowly shuffled over to their shared closet. It was meticulously organized, but Blaine stood there, dumbfounded. Pants, shirt, socks, shoes – basics. He could do basics, right?

Except there were several different kinds of pants – did he want jeans or perhaps linen or maybe his pair of seer-sucker or there were his dress pants – and several different kinds of shirts – button down, pull-over, t-shirt, and the _sweaters_ , Jesus Christ. He swallowed, shaking his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, not even wanting to _glance_ at the socks and shoes and ties and –

There was a sudden booming laugh and Blaine startled out of his thoughts. Burt and Carole were here and he was late, completely unprepared and now people were _waiting_ _on him_ , and that was the worst. He hated feeling like a disappointment, but it had been a while since the last time he had to pick out clothes for himself – Kurt had taken a trip down to DC to visit his father and Blaine had been able to call him, last time, and quietly ask if Kurt could help him pick. In the back of his mind, he remembered when he had to pick his own outfits daily, but – it felt different, now. He had gotten used to being dressed; the wound of Kurt having forgotten about their lifestyle was still fresh, and it felt as if someone had just ripped the band-aid off again.

He settled on a pair of dark-wash denim jeans and a simple white t-shirt, figuring he couldn’t go too wrong with basics and that Burt and Carole wouldn’t mind if he was dressed obscenely casual. He slipped on a pair of loafers and a cardigan, buttoning it up as he walked out of the bedroom into the living room.

“There you are!” Kurt had visibly brightened at Blaine’s arrival. He blushed and tugged at the sleeves on his sweater, covering up the leather band around his wrist.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Blaine immediately stated, turning his apologetic gaze to Burt and Carole. “I had trouble figuring out what to wear.”

“That’s usually Kurt’s problem!” Burt teased him, reaching out to clap a hand to Blaine’s shoulder. “C’mon, sport. I’m starved.”

Blaine’s chest warmed a little at the nickname and felt like it was going to light on fire when Kurt gently placed a hand on the small of his back, leading him out of the apartment. He pressed back into Kurt’s touch, letting out a soft breath as he tried to focus on the positives. Kurt was alive. Kurt was here. Kurt still remembered _him_. Kurt still _loved_ him. He could learn to live without this. He could. It would just take some time.

_“Sweetheart.” Blaine felt fingers on his face, pressing into the skin of his cheek and turning his head so that he was staring up into Kurt’s eyes. The fingers slid down his cheek and gently pressed into the leather of the gag in his mouth, tracing the strap for a moment before they paused. Suddenly, the fingers were gently gripping his hand. “Squeeze for me, sweetheart.”_

_He moved his fingers, and Kurt made a soft sound, humming. He was being moved again, and suddenly his back was against Kurt’s chest. Strong arms were around him, holding him there. “Take a breath, beautiful,” Kurt said. It took him a minute to register it, a minute to do it, exaggerating the movement of his chest, making a show of how big a breath he was taking, and then it took another minute to realize there was no longer a gag in his mouth. He let out a soft whine, and Kurt was back in his ear again, pressing soft kisses to the shell, making soft shushing sounds._

_“You’re fine, I’ve got you,” Kurt said, whispering the words right there, and they wrapped around Blaine’s brain like a blanket. “Take a sip.” Blaine hummed around the lip of the cup, tilting his head back to rest against Kurt’s shoulder, gently gulping down the water. “Shhh, small sips – there you go. Good boy. My good boy,” Kurt kept speaking right into his ear, pressing kisses to the skin of his neck between words. Blaine closed his eyes and breathed, tilting his head against Kurt’s shoulder, matching the pattern of his breath. “That’s it, sweetheart. I’ve got you – shh.”_

_He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, curled around each other, but eventually the light trembling of his body slowed and stopped, fading into a weakness in his bones that was draining. His head was clearer, and he was cold. He let out a shiver and the arms around him tightened. “Blaine?”_

_“Yes?” He tried to say, but his throat was still a little raw, mouth a little dry. The cup was back, and this time he drank from it greedily. Kurt pulled it away, quietly warning him about making himself sick. Fingers were in his hair, a kiss was pressed to his temple. “How long was I under?”_

_“Mmm,” Kurt hummed, shifting them to glance at the clock beside their bed. “About an hour, darling. I was afraid you were never coming back.”_

_It was the longest he had ever fallen under, and he shivered at the weight of that revelation. Kurt curled around him tighter, reached down to pull the blanket up over them both a little more. “Wow,” he whispered. Kurt chuckled, pressing another kiss to his ear._

_“There you are,” he whispered, cooing the words a little. “I’ve been looking for you forever.”_

_Blaine snorted, barely finding the energy to reach up and swat at Kurt’s chest weakly._

_“Ass.”_

“Blaine?”

Blaine startled, turning his head sharply to find Kurt staring at him. The hand on the small of his back was still there, but the fingers were clenched a bit in the fabric of his cardigan, tugging a little. He realized Kurt must have been trying to get his attention for a while. He turned his head to see that he had somehow managed to completely fade away from their entire walk to the restaurant. They were standing at the entrance to the little diner around the corner, and Burt and Carole were staring at him with concern.

“Are you okay?” Carole asked him quietly, looking as if she wanted to run her fingers through her hair, maybe press a hand to his forehead. He nodded his head, chuckling a little weakly.

“Sorry – preoccupied, I guess – please, let’s – let’s go in,” he insisted, gesturing to the door. Burt and Carole hesitated for a moment, but walked inside after another moment. Kurt paused, leaning in.

“Blaine – what’s going on?”

“Later – please,” he pleaded, shaking his head. He couldn’t do this. Not right now.

 “You _will_ tell me later,” Kurt said, and Blaine shivered because – fuck, how could he forget, but still manage to sound like that? He nodded his head, never able to turn down that tone of voice, and numbly followed Kurt into the restaurant, allowing himself to be led to the table in the corner. He mourned the loss of Kurt’s hand when he slid into the booth, but relaxed when a hand dropped to his thigh a moment later, centering himself again.

“You sure you’re alright, Blaine?” Burt asked once they had all ordered beverages, menus closed with the promise of ordering their usual fare. He leaned his elbows against the table and stared hard enough at Blaine that he wondered if Burt could see right through him to the table behind him. “I knew all that time spent going to and from wasn’t good for ya – did you catch something?”

“No – no, I’m not sick, I promise,” Blaine rushed to reassure him, speaking quickly enough that his words started to slur a bit. “I just – I’m thinking. A lot. Distracted, I guess.”

“Blaine’s been – troubled,” Kurt said, carefully, head tilted so that he could look at both Blaine and his parents at the same time. “I’ve been – there have been things I’ve forgotten about and I think he’s worried.”

“But you’re not?” Carole asked; her eyebrows rose in obvious surprise. Kurt shrugged his shoulders, pulling his coffee cup closer and blowing away at the steam.

“I forgot about Mike giving Tina a dog,” Kurt said, and Blaine tried so hard not to flinch but obviously failed if the look Carole gave him was anything to go by. “Or that Blaine likes to sit on the floor—“ Blaine pinched his thigh to keep from flinching, not wanting to give anything away, “—little things. And that’s it.”

“I’m just worried about how _much_ you’ve forgotten,” Blaine said, a little desperate, stressing the words in a plea for understanding. “I – Kurt, you were _fine_ all those days in the hospital, I just don’t understand why _now_ you’ve started to forget things.”

“We’ll call the doctor later, then, okay, Blaine?” Kurt snapped, and Blaine fell silent, staring down at the top of his coffee cup. Kurt sighed, squeezed gently at the top of his thigh where he was gently holding. “I – I know that this is a lot for you. And I’m overwhelmed myself that it’s happening, but – I don’t know what more you want me to do.”

_Everything_ , Blaine thought selfishly. _Anything_.

“I’m sorry,” he said instead, taking a sip of his coffee. Burt cleared his throat and swiftly changed the subject to Finn’s daughter and how she had taken her first few steps the week before. Carole whipped out her phone to proudly show a shaky, half-video that cut off far too early, but it was enough to distract everyone from the fact that Blaine’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

At least, so he thought.

 “You guys go on back,” Carole said after they left the diner. She reached out and gently looped her arm through Blaine’s, smiling cheerfully at Burt and Kurt as she waved them off with the opposite hand. “It’s been a while since our last visit, and I want Blaine to show me around that park a few blocks away.”

“The farmer’s market is today,” Kurt reminded them, and Blaine raised his eyebrows -- a little surprised that Kurt remembered. “Pick up some vegetables for a salad?”

“Sure,” Blaine agreed, smiling wide and large, showing too many teeth and feeling all over like he was fifteen years old in a polyester blazer reassuring a whole new group of friends that he really was okay. He took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly, feeling something drop out of his stomach when Burt and Kurt finally disappeared around their corner.

“So,” Carole said cheerfully, squeezing his bicep gently as she led him away and toward the park. “What am I going to have to bribe you with to talk to me?”

“I – what?” Blaine turned his head, staring at her.

“Blaine,” she said quietly, seriously, pulling him off to the side of the sidewalk. She leaned against the wall of a building, and he followed her lead, brows furrowed, a little confused. “I love you and Kurt dearly. Like you were my very own. But you’re not.”

“Oh – kay?”

“I didn’t actually give birth to either of you, which means I’m not biased against either of you like Burt is. Which means I can smell your bullshit about a mile before he can, because he doesn’t want to smell it yet,” she said, raising her eyebrows. She folded her arms over her chest as if daring him to refute that claim. “He only sees it when it’s almost too late because he’s blind to it beforehand – he wants to think the best of the two of you, doesn’t want to see you struggle, so, sometimes, he chooses not to.” Blaine nodded, following along, but his mouth was far too dry to speak and suddenly Carole seemed a lot more intimidating. “So. What did Kurt really forget, Blaine? Because you are walking around like the world is ending.”

“It’s – it’s personal, Carole,” Blaine said, shaking his head, because, _fuck_ , he couldn’t do this; not with her.

“It’s sexual.”

He gaped at her for a moment, jaw dropping, eyes widening. A blush spread across his cheeks and he stammered, desperately looking for the right thing to say. Eventually, he settled on, “N-no! It’s – it’s a private thing.”

“Sweetheart,” Carole said, and Blaine cringed at the way she made the endearment sound, feeling all of five years old as she gently patted his shoulder. “I did not become a grandmother because a water fowl was overactive in Finn’s neighborhood. And I sure as hell didn’t find Finn on my doorstep one morning and figured I might as well raise him as my own – even if I do wonder about him sometimes.” She squeezed Blaine’s shoulder gently and caught his eye. “You two have sex. I have sex.” Blaine winced and Carole rolled her eyes. “I know. So gross.” She dead-panned and Blaine managed an actual laugh. She smiled. “Mike’s not getting Tina a dog, is he?”

“No,” Blaine said, breathing out the admission so quietly that it nearly got lost in the New York City buzz, but Carole nodded as if she had heard.

 “I don’t need to know why Kurt thought that. Or why you like to sit on the floor. Burt found a whole slew of pamphlets at the local Planned Parenthood, and not all of them made it to Kurt,” she was _blushing_ , and Blaine was maybe dying a little on the inside, his cheeks matching hers in color, “but what I do know is that you shouldn’t keep it from him, particularly if it’s going to tear you apart the way it currently is. And if you can’t talk about it with Kurt yet, you definitely need to talk to that doctor. Because if _I_ can tell how upset you are, it’s only a matter of time before Kurt does. And you’re going to have to know what to tell him when he asks.” She paused for a minute, considering him. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, Blaine, but I am going to tell you that it’ll be more helpful to be honest. If you weren’t ashamed to talk about it the first time, there’s no reason to be ashamed now.”

Blaine pressed his lips together, ducking his head down to stare at his shoes. He wasn’t ashamed. He was scared shitless because what was worse than Kurt not remembering that they did this was maybe Kurt not remembering that he liked it. Worse, maybe he had whole new feelings about it. Maybe he hated it. Blaine didn’t even want to consider the possibility, let alone risk it by bringing it up again. He tilted his head up to catch her gaze again when he heard her sigh.

“At the very least,” she said, voice firm in its insistence, “you should talk to his doctor.”

“I will,” he promised, because he could do that much.

“Good,” she said, still watching him for a moment before she seemed satisfied. “Now – what kind of vegetables would Kurt want for a salad?”

“Well, there’s this stall that sells specialty herbs that he _adores_ ,” Blaine said, relieved to have moved on from such a heavy conversation. Admittedly, he did feel a bit better, a bit brighter, knowing at least someone was aware that things weren’t quite right. Of all of his possible support systems, Blaine had never thought Carole would be the one to urge him on, but he wasn’t one to turn away anyone at this point.

They walked to the market together, and with Carole’s arm gently looped through his, Blaine felt a little less lost.

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

“So,” Kurt said, settling into bed beside Blaine that night after Carole and Burt had left to go back to their hotel and Kurt had finished his moisturizing routine. He turned onto his side and pressed his chest against Blaine’s back, casually draping an arm around his waist. He held himself up a bit higher than Blaine, cradling his face in his hand, elbow propped on the pillow instead. “You said later, and it’s much, _much_ later, so talk.”

Blaine swallowed around the lump in his throat, clearing it a moment later in order to buy him some time. Carole had said honesty was the best route to take, but Blaine wanted to maybe talk to the doctor first; if there was a great possibility that the memories would come back, talking about it now didn’t make much sense. He’d just have to learn to be patient. That was all.

“Blaine?” Kurt repeated, squeezing around his waist to grab his attention again. “Blaine, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, turning in Kurt’s arms and pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you.”

“Then _talk to me_ ,” Kurt pressed, bringing a hand up to run it through Blaine’s curls. Blaine let out a breath, melting into the touch, becoming more pliant in Kurt’s arms. “Please, Blaine.”

He took a deep breath and moved in closer, relaxing further as Kurt’s arm automatically tightened around him. “I don’t quite know how to say this,” he said quietly, whispering the admission right into Kurt’s skin. Kurt sighed, tugging a little on Blaine’s hair on his hand’s next pass through his curls.

“Tell me what happened this morning – you completely spaced on us the entire walk to the restaurant,” Kurt said, and the suggestion was gentle. Blaine closed his eyes and let the words wash over him a little; he could do this. With Kurt leading him through it, he could do this.

“Sometimes,” he began, licking his lips and struggling for another moment. Then – “Sometimes, I get lost in my own thoughts. I – with everything that’s happened, I just have a lot of my mind. I didn’t mean to, I promise, it’s just that – sometimes, I can’t help it.”

Kurt hummed, dragging his fingers a bit more firmly through Blaine’s hair, pressing down against his scalp. He started to scratch his scalp a bit, moving his fingers in circles. Blaine groaned quietly, tipping his head back against Kurt’s hand. “What were you thinking about?”

The question made Blaine pause, fingers anxiously picking at the buttons on his pajama shirt. He could tell him the truth, but he sort of wanted to talk to the doctor first. “Us,” he said, deciding that there were ways for him to be honest that didn’t necessarily require him to be totally forthcoming. He bit his tongue, hard, punishing himself because he knew Kurt wouldn’t; Kurt did notice how he winced from the pain, however, and his fingers paused in Blaine’s hair.

“What about us?”

 “I just – I was thinking about how things were before the accident,” Blaine said, voice still soft and muffled against Kurt’s chest. Kurt’s fingers resumed their path through Blaine's curls, and the arm around his waist tightened considerably.

“Blaine, you’ve said that the things I’ve been forgetting weren’t important,” Kurt said lowly, and Blaine could hear the frown in his voice. The fingers never paused in his hair, for which Blaine was grateful; he was always more centered when Kurt was touching him – the lightest of touches could bring him to focus. “If that’s true, then there shouldn’t be a ‘before the accident’ and an ‘after the accident’.”

Blaine was quiet, still, unmoving in Kurt’s arms as he considered this. Kurt didn’t let the silence settle for too long before he spoke again, “Tell me what’s going on, because none of this makes sense.” Kurt said. Blaine could feel the tension in his body, and he definitely heard the strain in his voice. His stomach felt heavy, like it had dropped to his feet; he had upset Kurt. “Please – should I be worried about it, I mean – Blaine, what’s so different about me?”

There was a hysterical edge to his voice that Blaine just couldn’t actually stomach, and he pushed himself up and pressed their lips together a little desperately, as if he could kiss away the terror in Kurt’s eyes, as if he could erase the tension in his body with gentle swipes of his lips. Kurt made a noise and shook his head. He pressed a hand to Blaine’s chest to separate them again, keeping it there to force them apart. “No,” he said quietly, pressing his lips together. “Blaine – you’re upset, and I – I’m starting to freak out a little because, God, I can’t even imagine what could possibly have made you this upset—”

“You’re gone,” Blaine blurted out, because he hadn’t seen Kurt like this in so long. Kurt was always so calm, so collected, so cool – in control, always. Even when Kurt was upset with him, it was rational and punctuated, neat and tidy, wrapped up in a swift punishment and a conversation.

“Blaine, I’m _right here_ ,” Kurt said, shaking his head and closing his eyes. Blaine reached up to grab his hand, but Kurt shook his head and – and he _sobbed_. Blaine reeled back a little, blinking at him. He stared at him silently and opened and closed his mouth several times, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

Kurt had gotten upset before in their relationship, of course he had. Blaine has been there as a boyfriend, to kiss away the tears and to hold him close, to card his fingers through Kurt’s hair and whisper promises that things will get better. Blaine has also been there as a sub, to lie back and take it, whatever it is that Kurt needs, because that’s all that Blaine has to give is himself at the end of it all. All he ever had was himself to give; he just had to hope that it would always be enough – he just had to _trust_ that it would always be enough.

“Kurt, please,” he said quietly, pleading with him as he reached up to pull his hands away from his face. He dragged his thumbs under his eyes, wiping away the tears as best as he could. He shook his head and swallowed thickly, numb to everything but the overwhelming feel of having been a disappointment, of having been a reason that Kurt was so upset. It sat heavily in his stomach like a rock dragging him further and further down and – and this was ridiculous. Carole said honesty would be the best thing for their relationship so – “Sir, please. I’m sorry – I’m so sorry, please, just stop crying. I’ll do anything, just stop crying.”

“Why do you call me that?” Kurt asked. He sniffed loudly and swatted at Blaine’s hands, wiping at his face. He sat up and stared at him, hard, unforgiving, as he reached over to gently tug on Blaine’s hands. He held them, squeezing any time Blaine attempted to look away. “You’ve been calling me that on and off for days – _why_?”

“I – I don’t know how to just – tell you,” Blaine said, and Kurt sighed, shaking his head.

 “I don’t care, Blaine,” he said back, tipping his head down to maintain eye contact. Blaine closed his eyes for a second, overwhelmed. Kurt squeezed his hands and didn’t begin to speak again until Blaine had reopened his eyes. “Just say it, okay?”

“You – we have a different kind of relationship,” Blaine said quickly, blurting the words out so fast he nearly choked at the end. He took a deep breath and started over. “We – after college – when… when things were rough – do you remember what things were like after college?”

“That was three years ago, Blaine,” Kurt said quietly, and Blaine’s face fell. He brought a hand up and rubbed at his face, tugging when Kurt squeezed his hand again. Kurt let him pull his hands away and Blaine ran one through his hair, tugging at the ends. He dropped it back down and tugged on his wristband.

“You don’t remember – you – okay,” he took a deep breath and let it back out, “ – okay, that’s. That’s not ideal, but – okay. Um. After college, we – there were rough patches.” He took another deep breath, letting it out again. He tried not to think about the pattern he was creating. “Do you – do you remember in college? When we broke up – and you – you dated—”

“I dated Charlie, yeah,” Kurt said, frowning. He reached out and grabbed at Blaine’s shoulder, but Blaine pulled away again, shaking his head. He rubbed at his forehead again and sighed.

“Right, well – after college, there was – there was Elliott.”

“Wait – Elliott, fellow-intern-coffee-getter-Elliott?”

“Kurt – _please_ ,” Blaine begged him, tilting his head up to finally look at him, shaking his head. “You want me to tell you so – please. Please just – let me tell you.”

“Okay – okay, I’m sorry,” Kurt said, pulling his hands up, surrendering. Blaine let out another breath.

“Elliott liked you – _shut up, Kurt, he liked you_ ,” Blaine said quickly, quietly, cutting Kurt off the minute he opened his mouth to interrupt. “And he started to – to slowly – he would invite you out to dinner. And invite you back to his place to finish projects or – and you spent more and more time with him and less and less time with me and I – I freaked out, okay?”

“Freaked out?”

“I kind of – screamed at you and broke some things and then – and then you threw me against the wall and fucked my _brains_ out, Kurt and –“ he broke off, shaking his head and laughing a little, hysterical, because – “—and it was the best thing to ever happen to me. I had bruises for days and I couldn’t walk to bed that night and – God, I woke up the next morning with your cum dried on my thighs and ass and – _fuck_ , Kurt. I was yours. I was so thoroughly yours and I – I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”

Kurt opened his mouth as if to say something and closed it, frowning. He shook his head a little, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. “I – I’m not following. This is – this is all a sex thing?”

“After – after that night,” Blaine persisted, wanting Kurt to understand but really not sure how best to put it into words. How was he expected to describe the way it felt to be so literally owned? How was he expected to describe the dynamics of a relationship that he still didn’t quite understand yet? “After that night – we swore to each other that we’d talk about what happened. And we did. I – I wanted – I _needed_ to know that I was yours. That I was yours, only yours, and that you – that you were mine.”

Kurt licked his lips and said quietly, “And – and what did I want?”

Blaine made a noise and winced, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. “You never – you never told me. What you got out of it. I -- I never asked. I just trusted you.”

“Trusted me,” Kurt repeated. Blaine shivered a little; Kurt sounded so – cold, calculated. “Blaine,” he started, stopped, licked his lips again. “That – that collar I found – it was—”

“Mine.”

“ _Oh_.”

Blaine glanced up to watch him quietly, taking in the way Kurt’s face was blank, the way his eyes were unfocused as he stared along the opposite wall. Blaine blinked, his stomach filling with the heavy dread of panic. He took a deep breath. “We – have a – a contract. And—”

“A contract,” Kurt repeated, and Blaine reached out, this time. He was the one who extended his hand, made to take Kurt’s, but, this time, it was Kurt who pulled away. “That sounds so – clinical.”

Blaine made a noise and stood up, dragging his fingers through his hair a little. He started to pace a bit, moving from one side of their room to the other, shaking his head. “It’s not – it’s not, Kurt – shit. I’m just – I’ve never been good at this. Good at talking. Good at telling you things, I just – it’s not clinical. It’s beautiful and it’s wonderful and it’s ours and – it’s not. No – please, don’t think of it like that.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Kurt whispered, and Blaine barely heard him.

“Do you want to see?” Blaine asked, turning, brightening a little at the idea. “You – you wrote the contract – so – I mean. Do you want to see it?”

“Blaine, I – “ Kurt started, stopped again. He swallowed, shifted on the bed. “I – I think I need some time to process this.”

“Process – process what? No – I – I didn’t even really – I didn’t even really explain it, Kurt – no,” Blaine said, shaking his head, he moved over to the trunk and fished for the key in his shirt. His hands were shaking a little, his body felt like it was shaking a little, and this was just – it was too much. This was his moment to remind Kurt of how beautiful what they did was, and, here he was, screwing it up as usual. “Let me get the contract – I’ll – it’ll explain it better, I promise.”

“Blaine, stop!” Kurt shouted, and Blaine immediately stopped what he was doing, dropping the key down to the ground. He let his head hang and dropped his hands into his lap. He was there, kneeling on the ground, with his head hung low and his body relaxed. Kurt didn’t say anything for a while, and it was just – silent. It grew to be some weird waiting game that Blaine wanted out of immediately. Then, there was a hand, soft, delicate, barely there against the skin of the back of his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath immediately, sagging a little further because – God, that felt so good.

“I – I’ll look at it, Blaine,” Kurt said quietly, fingers dragging across the skin of his neck gently. “I promise you, I will – I just need some time to process this, okay? I don’t remember – being that. For you. Being your—your Sir.” He took another deep breath, but the fingers never stopped. “I just – I need some time.”

“Okay?” Blaine asked quietly, tilting his head up a little to look at Kurt. “I – I don’t – I don’t think I’m understanding.”

“I’m going to – to go spend the night with my parents, okay?” Kurt phrased it as a question, but he wasn’t asking. Blaine’s stomach sunk a little. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay,” Blaine said because he lacked anything better to say. Kurt nodded his head and moved around their room. He was still talking, because Blaine could hear the sounds of his voice though he wasn’t focused enough to actually hear the words.

Then Kurt was back, his fingers on the back of Blaine’s neck. Blaine glanced up at him and winced when he saw Kurt frowning. Kurt sighed, looking anxious. “Blaine – I’m just going to spend the night at their hotel and see them off to the airport in the morning. I’ll be home when you get back from work, I promise.” Blaine nodded and Kurt leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I just – I need some time to think about this, Blaine. Without – without the pressure of you being _right here_.”

“Okay,” Blaine repeated himself, attempting to sound as reassuring as possible. From the look on Kurt’s face, he knew he had failed. Still, neither of them commented on it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kurt promised him again, pressing another kiss to his forehead, fingers gently squeezing the back of his neck in what was a familiar gesture that Blaine assumed Kurt was doing mindlessly. Blaine just nodded his head. Kurt sighed, hesitated for a moment, but then –

He just left anyway.

Blaine sat there, on the ground; staring at the closed bedroom door for far too long before he pushed himself up to his feet. He shuffled over to his bedside table and picked up his cellphone. He sat on the bed and unlocked it, scrolling through his contacts until –

_In case of emergency._

He clicked on the name, knowing that, at one point, the number had been programmed into this phone by Kurt himself. If, for whatever reason, Blaine needed someone besides Kurt – this was who he was supposed to call. Blaine wanted Kurt – _needed Kurt –_ but Kurt had left. So he pressed the phone to his ear and waited.

_“Hello?”_

“He left,” Blaine said, not waiting for anything else, not bothering with a greeting of any kind. “He left – he had said that he’d never leave, and he left. He doesn’t remember and I didn’t explain it right and I ruined everything and he _left_.”

There was a pause, then – _“Blaine, I need you to calm down. Can you take a deep breath for me? In and out, Blaine. Let me hear you.”_

Blaine took a deep breath, letting it out purposefully into the phone.

_“Good boy.”_

Blaine couldn’t stop his body from shaking a little, shuddering at the praise. He winced. “I’m not good, I’m not – you don’t understand. He _left me_.”

_“Blaine. Go to your closet. There’s a bag there, isn’t there? A little blue duffel bag. Do you see it?”_

“Yes.”

_“Good. I want you to grab it. Do you have it?”_

“Yes.”

_“Good boy. So good – listening to me. Are you listening to me?”_

“Yes.” Blaine hugged the bag to his chest, still holding the phone with one hand. He pressed it further into his cheek, wanting to be closer to the person on the other end of the line.

_“Good. I want you to take that bag and come over – Kurt packed that bag, Kurt gave you my number – this will be okay, Blaine. I promise. I’m going to send him a text saying that you’re with me. I won’t say anything else unless you tell me to, okay? Lock the door behind you. Take a cab – I don’t want you on the trains this late. I’ll pay you back for the cab, okay? Just get here as fast and as safely as you can.”_

“Yes.” Blaine was already moving to the door, already had his keys in his hand.

_“Yes, what, Blaine?”_

Blaine paused, just in front of the door. He let out a breath, a little overwhelmed at how relieved his body was to whisper the words back – “Yes, Miss Tina.”

Tina hummed happily on the other end of the line. _“There’s my beautiful boy. I’ll see you soon.”_

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

_“Are you sure, Blaine?” Kurt asked him quietly as they watched a movie one night. Blaine’s hands were bound in front of him, wrists tied delicately with silk ropes, tight enough that he couldn’t move his hands much. He was lying on his side, and his head was pillowed against Kurt’s thigh. “I mean – Mike and Tina would understand, I’m sure, if you didn’t really want to.”_

_“But I do, Kurt, honest,” Blaine said, insistent, humming as Kurt ran his fingers through his hair. He shifted a little, turning, and Kurt moved his hands to help Blaine resettle on his back. He blinked up at Kurt, staring at the underside of his jaw and he sighed. “Really, Kurt. I want this.”_

_“Sharing was a hard limit of yours,” Kurt said, and Blaine let out a breath at the reminder._

_“I don’t think of it like sharing you or me,” Blaine said. Kurt hummed a little, and they fell in a comfortable silence. Kurt resumed running his fingers through Blaine’s hair, his nails gently scratching his scalp. The movie played on in the background, but Blaine couldn’t quite make out anything besides the flashing colors and the low hum of background noise. He shifted again, and he turned his face into Kurt’s stomach, pressing his nose there for a minute, breathing him in._

_“What **do** you think, beautiful?” Kurt asked, tugging on Blaine’s hair a little to get Blaine to look back at him. Blaine blinked, licking his lips as he considered how best to say it._

_“I think,” he started, stopped, took a deep breath and plowed on, “I think that, sometimes, I wish that what we did was considered… common. I wish that, sometimes, I could share what makes our relationship special with the people we love, you know? Not that I’d ever want your father to see me collared or for you to spank me in front of my brother, but – I don’t know. Sometimes, I feel like – like this is something to be ashamed of. The way we have to keep it hidden, you know?”_

_Kurt hummed again, not quite responding, before he tugged on Blaine’s hair again to prompt him to keep talking. Blaine licked his lips and sighed._

_“I just – I think it’ll be nice. To be able to share something so special to us with people so special to us, you know?” Blaine tilted his head, attempting to catch Kurt’s eye, to wonder if he was maybe crossing a line or saying the wrong thing, but Kurt’s face was perfectly blank, inviting, just watching him quietly. Blaine shifted again, and Kurt shushed him. He scratched at Blaine’s scalp in soothing circles._

_“You aren’t upsetting me, love, hush,” Kurt said quietly as he continued his ministrations. “I’m just thinking about what you’re saying. I want to make sure we’re both on the same page, that’s all.”_

_Blaine didn’t say anything immediately, letting them both have some time to process it. “How far would it go?” Blaine asked quietly, hesitantly._

_“Only as far as both you and Mike were comfortable. Never more than either of you could handle, and any of us – myself and Tina included – are able to safe word at any time, no problem.” Blaine nodded to show that he understood, staying quiet._

_“You really want this?” he asked after another moment. Kurt’s fingers paused in his hair, and that was enough of an answer. “Good.”_

_“Good?” Kurt asked, finally tilting his head down to catch Blaine’s eye. Blaine blushed under his gaze; a little amused, a little incredulous, but still so impossibly fond that Blaine had a hard time believing that this was actually still his life, all these years later._

_“I really want it, too,” Blaine said quietly. Kurt laughed a little, shaking his head, fingers trailing down Blaine’s neck and over his arm, tugging gently on the ropes binding his wrists._

_“I knew I should’ve been more worried about your enormous crush on Mike Chang,” Kurt teased him gently, and Blaine laughed loudly, turning his body a bit and pressing his face into Kurt’s stomach another time. He pressed a kiss there, lightning quick and over his shirt, before he tilted his head away._

_“Like you’re not completely looking forward to the two of us making out.”_

_“Oh, give me a break—“_

“Blaine!”

Blaine startled again, pulling his face away from the cool glass of the taxi window, blinking his eyes as he looked out the window to see Mike standing there. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were squinting at Blaine, and Blaine’s stomach dropped; Mike was worried about him. He reached over and grabbed the little duffel, pulling it close to his chest before he slid out of the cab. He reached in his pocket for money, but Mike shook his head and grabbed his hand.

“Already paid him – c’mon,” Mike said quietly, tugging on Blaine’s hand and pulling him into the building. Tina and Mike lived in a three-floor walk-up on the third floor, and Blaine lagged behind Mike just a bit on the steps, each thud of their feet against the wooden staircase echoing Blaine’s own failure to him. He wouldn’t have to be here if he could have just learned to control himself, if he didn’t so pathetically rely on Kurt.

Blaine startled when Mike squeezed his hand, glancing up to see his friend frowning down at him. “Tina will fix it,” Mike reassured him, and Blaine barely managed to offer him a smile in return to the sentiment. “She always does.”

Blaine hummed his response, picking up his pace as they turned the corner and reached Tina and Mike’s apartment. Mike opened the door and ushered Blaine in, dropping his hand so that he could turn and lock the door behind them. Blaine shuffled over to the side, toeing off his shoes. At the very least, he was thankful that he remembered these rules.

“Blaine?” Tina called from the other room. There was the clicking of heels against hardwood floors before she stood in front of them, a soft smile on her face. “Hey, baby. Come here.”

Blaine moved forward immediately, and fell to his knees in front of her with little hesitation at all. She sighed, dropping her hand to the top of his head. She scratched gently at his scalp for a long moment before she asked, gently, “Can you stand up for me, sweetheart? I really didn’t want to do this in my foyer.”

“Right,” Blaine said, blushing a little. He stood up and Tina pressed her hand to the small of his back. It was a comfort, a reassurance, but it was still too small and a little too warm. He shivered a little, and Tina stepped away from him. She took the duffel bag from Mike and sat down on a large armchair in the corner. She crossed one leg over the other and unzipped the bag.

“Oooh,” she breathed out as she rifled through the contents. Mike moved past Blaine to sit on the couch. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him. Mike kept turning his head, looking from Tina to Blaine and back. Blaine bounced nervously on the balls of his feet, not sure what was quite expected of him. After a minute, Tina looked up at him and just stared for a long moment, watching him quietly.

“Come here, baby,” she said softly, and Blaine moved back over. She managed to get a pillow down before Blaine collapsed back onto his knees. He pressed his face into her thigh, nuzzling his nose there against the soft skin. She sighed, dropping her hand back to his head. “Can you tell me what happened?”

He shook his head quietly, confident in the knowledge that he’d ruin the story again. Tina didn’t say anything for a while and then she asked again, “What if I asked questions, and you just responded yes or no?”

“Okay,” Blaine said quietly, a whisper against her skin. She made a disapproving noise.

“Yes, Miss Tina,” she said, tugging on Blaine’s hair. He groaned quietly, taking a moment before he echoed her.

“Yes, Miss Tina.”

“Good boy,” she said, scratching his scalp again. “You and Kurt had a fight?”

“No, Miss Tina,” Blaine said quietly, because he was pretty sure it hadn’t been a fight.

“But Kurt left?”

“Yes, Miss Tina.”

Tina hummed a little, frowning. “You said something about Kurt forgetting. So, after the accident, Kurt couldn’t remember something important, yes?”

“Yes, Miss Tina.”

“Did it have something to do with this, Blaine?” Blaine tilted his head up to look at her, and she held up a pair of leather cuffs that she must have pulled from the blue duffel bag. Blaine looked down to the leather cuff around his wrist, and he nodded. Tina made a soft sound, and then her fingers were under Blaine’s chin, tugging it up so he was looking at her. “Can you please try to tell me what happened? Why did Kurt leave, Blaine?”

Blaine took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He closed his eyes and thought for a long moment, before he asked, quietly, “I – I need—”

“What do you need, Blaine?” Tina asked finally, when Blaine didn’t seem able to speak for himself anymore. Her fingers pressed a little under his chin, and she tilted his head up until he was looking her in the eye again. “I can give it to you – I can give you anything and everything, baby, you just have to ask for it. Be a good boy for me, okay, Blaine? Just use your words and ask me.”

Blaine wanted to look away, but Tina was unforgiving in her eye contact. He took a deep breath and blinked at her quietly before asking softly, “Can I wear those cuffs, Miss Tina?”

“Would that make it feel safer for you, baby?” she asked him, her fingers trailing up the side of his face to gently stroke his cheekbone. He nodded, leaning his head into her touch, turning to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist. She let out a breath and nodded. “Stand up, please.”

Blaine pressed his hand into her thigh to give himself a bit more leverage as he stood. She considered him for a moment before she asked him, “Do you want them in front of you or behind you, Blaine?”

He thought about it, knowing that behind his back would be better, making him feel more vulnerable and therefore more secure in his knowledge that Tina _would_ take care of him, but he wasn’t sure what was going to happen tonight and maybe having use of his hands – however limited – would be better. “In front, please, Miss Tina,” he finally asked of her, and she nodded.

She pulled the blue duffel bag closer to her and rifled back through it until she found the cuffs. She reached forward, but he automatically offered his wrists. She worked quietly, binding them together and making sure the chain between them was short. She grabbed his forearms and pulled, testing the strength of the bindings. She hummed happily and tilted her head up to look at Blaine, “Better?”

“Much better, thank you, Miss Tina,” Blaine said back in a whisper. She smiled at him again, gently, before gesturing.

“Do you want to sit with Mike on the couch?”

Blaine turned to look at Mike who was still watching him with a concerned expression on his face. He attempted to mask it when Blaine looked over, but failed. Blaine bit his lip and nodded. Tina gently swatted his ass, teasing, “Then go, silly.”

Blaine shuffled over to the couch and sat down beside Mike, who immediately threw an arm around Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine leaned into his side, and Tina watched them from her chair. She crossed one leg over the other, leaning her head on her hand and her elbow on the arm of the chair. “Better?”

“Much, thank you, Miss Tina,” Blaine said quietly. Mike squeezed his shoulders gently, urging him to speak when Tina gestured for him to continue. Blaine licked his lips and blinked quietly, unsure of how to begin.

“When did you realize Kurt had forgotten that he was your Dom, baby?” Tina prompted after another moment of silence.

 “When we came home from the hospital,” Blaine said quietly. “He – he found my collar and he thought – he thought it was a dog’s.” Blaine winced when he heard Mike’s sharp intake of breath, and he buried his face a little further into Mike’s shoulder when Tina made a soft noise of despair across the room.

“Did you tell him then?”

“No,” Blaine said quietly, closing his eyes. He pulled at his wrists, relaxing a little when he felt the security of their bonds. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I – I panicked,” Blaine said quietly. “I – I told him that we were holding onto it for you guys. I told him that – that Mike was surprising you with a dog.”

“You lied.”

Blaine whimpered a little bit, but nodded. Mike held him a little closer and Blaine barely restrained himself from pushing himself into Mike’s lap. He turned and pressed his head into Mike’s shoulder.

“What happened next, Blaine?”

Blaine didn’t say anything for a moment, and then Mike squeezed his shoulder again. “C’mon, man,” Mike whispered quietly, stroking his thumb up and down Blaine’s shoulder. “You can do this. It’s okay.”

Blaine took a deep breath, “We – we had dinner. And I sat on the ground like – like usual, and Kurt – Kurt thought it was weird. I – I called him Sir and I told him that we usually sit like that.”

“And what did he say?” Tina prompted.

“He said ‘What a silly thing for me to forget,’ and then he – he asked if I was okay, that it was weird that I called him Sir – and so I just said that I was overwhelmed. That – that wasn’t a lie,” Blaine was quick to point out. Tina hummed quietly, nodding her head.

“It’s okay, Blaine,” she said softly, sweetly. Mike pressed a kiss to the top of Blaine’s head. Blaine relaxed further into him. “How long did you wait to tell him?”

“Just – just one day, I promise,” Blaine said quietly. “We –we went out to brunch with Burt and Carole and I – I blanked. I – I went to, um, I just. Sort of left. In my head. And I – I couldn’t keep it from him anymore.”

“You said you didn’t tell the story right,” Tina said quietly, and Blaine nodded his head. “It’s okay, Blaine. I can talk to Kurt if you’d want.”

“Could you?” Blaine asked quietly, and Tina smiled at him sweetly.

“Of course, baby,” she said. She leaned forward a little, watching him. “Can you tell me what else you need, Blaine?”

He was quiet for a long moment, and they stared at each other before he diverted his eyes away from her to look down at his lap. “I need to be punished, Miss Tina.”

“You want to be forgiven, Blaine, baby?” When he nodded his head, she smiled at him. “Okay. I’m going to tell you exactly what I’m doing it as I’m doing it, okay sweetheart? When it’s over, all will be forgiven and forgotten.” Blaine winced at forgotten, but Tina was quick to reassure him. “And I will talk to Kurt for you, okay? I’ll call him tonight and have lunch with him tomorrow. It’s going to be okay, Blaine, I promise.”

“Okay,” Blaine whispered quietly. Mike squeezed his shoulder again. Tina leaned over and reached into her blue duffel and rifled through it again. She pulled out a small ball gag and placed it on the table before zipping the bag back up.

 “Blaine, I’m going to gag you, okay, sweetheart? You’re not going to be allowed to talk through the punishment so that you can’t lie anymore,” Tina said, and Blaine whimpered, nodding. She moved over and kneeled in front of him. She rubbed his cheek softly before asking, “Open up for me, baby?”

Blaine opened his mouth, leaning his head forward after the ball had been placed between his teeth so that Tina could fasten it behind his head. She stroked the leather gently, watching him quietly. He relaxed against Mike, blinking up at Tina. She smiled at him sadly.

“I’m going to spank you, Blaine,” she told him as gently as possible, still stroking his cheek gently with her fingers. “I’m going to ask you to stand up, and I’m going to sit beside Mike. You will take off your pants and underwear and lay over my lap. You’re going to have your head on Mike’s lap, and you will hold his hand. If you want to safe word, you will squeeze his hand. Do you understand me? Nod, sweetheart.”

Blaine nodded, closing his eyes. He felt Tina tug on his hands and he stood up quietly. She sat down and turned to Mike. “Help him with his pants, darling,” Tina said, and Mike nodded. He leaned forward on the couch and undid Blaine’s button and zipper. Blaine blushed as Mike pulled down his jeans and underwear at the same time, taking the hand offered as he stepped out of his pants. Mike leaned back and Blaine moved quietly, positioning himself over Tina’s lap.

Blaine took Mike’s hand when it was offered to him, and turned his head to rest his cheek against his thigh. Mike’s other hand found its way to Blaine’s curls, and he gently began running his fingers through Blaine’s hair. He started a little when Tina’s hand started rubbing gently against his ass.

“Twenty smacks, Blaine. Mike will keep count,” Tina said before she landed the first one. Blaine’s cry was muffled by the gag.

“One, Miss Tina,” Mike said quietly, scratching at Blaine’s scalp gently. It was soothing right up until the second smack landed. “Two, Miss Tina.”

Somewhere around ten smacks, Blaine had stopped really keeping track. He leaned his face further into Mike’s thigh, feeling the tears tracking down his face, feeling his mouth wet around the ball gag in his mouth, feeling the heat of Tina’s hand, hard and unrelenting, on his ass. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift, sobbing quietly into Mike’s lap.

 

_“I don’t like punishing you,” Kurt said quietly afterwards, holding Blaine tightly in his arms when he sobs. “I don’t like hurting you, but I can’t stand watching you hurt yourself.”_

_“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Blaine sobbed into Kurt’s chest, shaking a little. Kurt rubbed up and down Blaine’s back gently, shushing him._

_“Shh, beautiful, shh.” Kurt shook his head quietly, turning and pressing his lips to Blaine’s ear, speaking directly there. “Sweetheart, hush. It’s over. You’re forgiven. It’s all okay now, I promise.”_

_Blaine didn’t say anything, just pressed his face further into Kurt’s neck. Kurt continued to rub his back as he settled, his tears subsiding enough that he could really feel the stinging in his ass. “Thank you, Sir,” Blaine said, mumbling the words into the skin of his neck. Kurt just squeezed him tighter._

_“Of course, love. I will always be here whenever you need me. I promise.”_

 

“So good for me, Blaine.”

He barely heard Tina, just hummed quietly as he felt sweatpants being pulled up his naked legs. He was being maneuvered and positioned, and he laid his head against Mike’s shoulder and closed his eyes quietly. “You were so good, Blaine,” Mike whispered into his ear, wrapping his arms securely around Blaine’s body. He spread his legs a little to better accommodate Blaine’s sore ass, and Blaine hummed his appreciation around the gag. “It’s all okay, now. See? I told you Miss Tina would fix it, Blaine – I _told_ you,” Mike muttered, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s temple.

“I’m going to go call Kurt, baby. Will you be alright with Mike? Nod for me, sweetheart – there you go.” Tina reached up and carded her fingers through Blaine’s hair, smiling at him softly before she stood up and disappeared into the kitchen.

“All’s forgiven, Blaine – it’s going to be okay,” Mike whispered into his hair again. Blaine hummed around the gag, allowing Mike to wipe the tear stains off his face. He shifted a little on his lap, settling further in. He closed his eyes and relaxed completely, giving himself over to the security of being held. For once, Blaine felt at ease in the past few days, felt normal, felt secure. With Mike’s arms around him and Tina’s parting promise, Blaine finally felt like things just might turn out alright.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

“No, he’s with me.”

Blaine turned a little when he registered Tina’s voice beside him, and she smiled at him sweetly, reaching up to gently run her fingers over his cheek. He closed his eyes and turned his head back, resting his temple against Mike’s shoulder again. He felt Tina’s fingers working at the buckle on the back of his head, and then the gag was removed from his mouth. Both Tina and Mike automatically shushed him when he started to hoarsely whine.

“He’s okay, Kurt,” Tina said into the phone. She was in front of him now, kneeling in front of Mike. She pulled the phone away for a minute to request, gently, “Drink something, Blaine, baby.” She handed Mike a bottle of water and Blaine leaned forward a little to take a few sips of it. Tina pressed the phone back to her ear. “He was just a little overwhelmed, I think. He wasn’t expecting you to leave.”

Blaine whimpered a little, and Mike pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Shh, Blaine, it’s okay,” Mike whispered, rubbing his hand gently up and down his back.

“I’ll make sure he gets to work in the morning – he should be fine to work, and he’ll stay with Mike all day if he isn’t.” There was a long pause and Mike was now holding an apple slice up to his mouth. He leaned forward again and took a small bite, chewing quietly. He turned his head to watch Tina who was focusing on him, despite speaking to Kurt. “I’ll have him – yes. I think we should talk, Kurt. I can probably help you understand better than Blaine. He’s – no, I told you, he’s fine.”

Tina gestured to Mike with her free hand, and Blaine noticed the plate of fruit on the coffee table that he didn’t remember being there before. She then stood up and walked into the kitchen, lowering her voice so that Blaine could no longer hear her.

“Do you want me to undo the cuffs, Blaine?” Mike asked him softly. Blaine shook his head, resting his head back against his shoulder. Mike leaned forward, cradling Blaine gently, and he grabbed the plate off the table. He set it beside him on the couch, and then offered Blaine a grape. “C’mon. Miss Tina wants you to have some of this, okay?”

“Okay,” Blaine said, his voice a little raspy because his mouth was still dry. Mike offered him a few more sips of water before pressing the grape to his lips. Blaine ate it quietly. “Mike?”

“Yeah, Blaine?”

“What if Kurt never remembers?” Blaine asked quietly, obviously a little nervous, a little terrified at the very thought. “What if it’s gone for good?”

Mike didn’t say anything for a while, just quietly offered Blaine another grape. Blaine chewed on that one quietly, grateful for something to keep his mouth busy so that he didn’t start just blurting out every other question running through his mind.

“Then you just start over,” Mike finally settled on that answer, speaking quietly as he held up another grape for Blaine to take. “I mean – you guys have been through so much and came out stronger. Maybe this will be like all those other times.”

“But –“ Blaine broke off, shifting in Mike’s lap. He sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head at the next offering of fruit. “But – Mike _this_ was how we came out stronger. It’s like – it’s like we went through all that stuff and came out at the same place we were before it happened.”

 “Blaine,” Mike said, a little brokenly. He tapped his fingers against Blaine’s shoulder for a minute and then finally said, “Did you talk to the doctor yet? Kurt’s doctor?”

“No.”

“Well, then, you can’t really say he’ll never get his memories back, can you?” Mike asked, shaking his head. He squeezed an arm around Blaine’s shoulders and held up a piece of apple. “It doesn’t make sense to worry about shit that could happen, Blaine. You have to worry about the now. Focus on – on how much you _know_ Kurt loves you. The rest – the rest will fall into place when it does.”

“Promise?”

“No,” Mike said with a shake of his head, “but only because I don’t believe in promises, Blaine. You know that. I do believe in love. Everyone in high school knew that out of any of us, you two would make it.”

“And here we are,” Blaine said dejectedly. Mike scoffed and shook his head.

“And here _we_ are, Blaine. You and Kurt were supposed to outlast Tina and me, right? And Tina and I are still together, so there’s no way the two of you are going anywhere until we do,” Mike said, and Blaine laughed a little, quietly, grateful for his friend’s silly logic.

“Thanks, Mike,” Blaine said quietly. He turned his head and muffled his yawn into Mike’s shoulder, sighing afterwards. Mike laughed quietly at him.

“C’mon. We’ll get ready for bed,” Mike said, cradling Blaine to his chest before he stood up with a groan. “Christ, man, you’re heavy.”

“Are you calling me fat, Chang?” Blaine asked back, and Mike shook his head.

“No, never.”

“Good. You can – I can walk, though,” Blaine said quietly, shifting a little. Mike laughed, turning his head and pressing a kiss to Blaine’s forehead again, laughing harder when Blaine crinkled his nose at him.

“I know you can, but – just let me, okay?” Mike asked back just as softly. Blaine blushed, but nodded his head, pressing his head back into Mike’s shoulder. Mike carried him through their small apartment to his and Tina’s bedroom. There was a large, king-sized bed taking up most of the space there. He gently laid Blaine in the middle of it before he crawled up beside him. They laid beside each other in silence for a while, and Blaine was just barely drifting off to sleep when he heard Tina walk into the room and shut the door behind her.

“Blaine, baby? You awake?” she asked softly as she moved to the bed. Her shoes were off and her steps were light and quiet against the hardwood floors. Blaine felt the bed shift as she kneeled beside him. He turned onto his back to look at her and hissed out a sharp breath when he applied the lightest bit of pressure to his sore ass. She smiled at him sympathetically. “Hi, Blaine. You feeling better?”

“Much better, Tina, thanks,” he said softly, and she hummed. She reached down and brushed the hair off of his forehead, trailing her fingers down his face gently.

 “I talked to Kurt, baby,” she said quietly, sitting down beside him. She kept running her fingers through his hair as she talked. “He was relieved to know that you had come to us. He felt so bad for leaving you, Blaine, but he hadn’t known what else to do. I’m going to meet him tomorrow for lunch, and I was wondering if you maybe had a copy of your contract that I could take to him?”

Blaine reached under his t-shirt for his set of keys; the one was for his collar, the other was for the chest of toys. He took the necklace off and held it out to Tina. “Those are – Kurt’s. In our bedroom, there’s a – a chest, so. You should be able to find everything there.”

Tina took the keys and nodded her head. “I still have the spare to your apartment, so,” she said as she put the necklace on and tucked it into her tank top. Blaine nodded his head and closed his eyes. “Do you think you can go to work tomorrow, baby?”

“I’ll – I can try,” he said quietly, and Tina hummed appreciatively.

“I’d really like that, Blaine,” she said quietly. “Kurt would, too.” Blaine nodded, and Tina let out another breath. He opened his eyes to see her looking at Mike before she turned back to him and smiled softly. “Do you mind if I look at your ass before we go to bed? I just want to make sure it didn’t bruise too badly.”

Blaine nodded his head and immediately turned onto his stomach. He raised his hips and sighed as Tina pulled his sweatpants down. She started humming softly while moving around, off of the bed and over to the table beside it. Blaine closed his eyes and drifted, starting to hum back when she returned to smooth a bit of lotion over his sore ass. When she was finished, she pulled his pants back up and moved off of the bed to go about turning off all the lights. She came back and settled in beside Blaine. She rested her hand on the small of his back, and Mike had an arm draped over Blaine’s shoulders.

“Good night, baby – good night, darling,” Tina said quietly through the darkness.

Mike and Blaine answered simultaneously to each other: “Good night, Miss Tina.”

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Blaine woke up the next morning to Tina’s fingers running through his hair and Mike’s mouth on his neck. He groaned quietly, arching up into both touches, smiling softly when he heard the light tinkling of Tina’s giggles. “G’mornin’,” he said around a pleased groan, stretching out on the bed. Tina was still giggling quietly, shaking her head at him fondly.

“Good morning, baby,” she said, tugging on his curls. “C’mon. Get up and into the shower. Someone promised me they’d go to work today.” Blaine sighed, but nodded his head, shifting on the bed. Mike pressed a chaste kiss to his neck before backing off. Blaine moved off the bed and into the bathroom down the hall, closing the door behind him.

He took his time, adjusting the water temperature and smelling all of their shampoos before he even stepped inside the shower. He took great care in washing his hair and his body, using a mixture of both of their shampoos and body washes until he smelt like Mike with a faint hint of something a bit more floral. It felt good and nice, and he stepped out of it and into a towel. He didn’t have anything to put in his hair, but he had long ago lost the trepidation of stepping out with his hair natural. Mostly because college happened and laziness happened and the ten-minute-dash to the door happened more and more frequently, Blaine had almost gotten over his fear of people seeing his curls without the gel.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way back into the bedroom, and his breath caught in his throat. Mike and Tina were going in and out of their own closet, dancing around each other as they both got ready for the day, but what really stuck with him was the neat collection of clothes on the made bed.

There was a pair of pants, a button down top, and a cardigan laid out on the bed, but what really made Blaine stop breathing for just a moment was the four little bow ties neatly lying beside them. Next to those were three pairs of socks, and a pair of shoes was neatly placed at the foot of the bed.

“ _Tina_ ,” Blaine said, and both Mike and Tina paused at the crackling tones of his voice. They turned to look at him, and they both smiled; Mike’s smile was a little sad, and Tina’s was a little hopeful.

“Go on, baby,” Tina said quietly, gesturing, and Blaine immediately moved toward the clothes, carefully dressing before he paused at the bow ties. The outfit just spoke volumes of Kurt, of what had to have been in that little blue duffel bag. He traced his fingers along the bowties for a moment, considering those first, then the socks, and back. Finally, he pulled together the only matching set. He bent down to put on the socks first, then took the bowtie in careful hands.

“Will you tie it for me, Tina?” he requested in a whisper. She turned to look at him and smiled.

“Of course. C’mere,” she said, gesturing. Blaine moved forward and handed her the bowtie, remaining still as she tugged and tied it perfectly. She smoothed down his collar with caring hands, smiling at him fondly. “You look good today, Blaine,” she said in a whisper. He smiled at her, shivering at the words.

 “Thank you, Tina,” he said, sincerely. She smiled at him and gestured to his bag on the bed.

“Go on and pack that up, sweetheart. You should really go home to Kurt tonight,” she said, patting his shoulder gently. Blaine nodded, smiling at her tightly before he moved over and folded up his clothes neatly. He packed away the bag and zipped it up. He picked it up and stood there for a moment, just watching them again quietly.

“How’s your ass, baby?” Tina asked as she leaned over to tie her shoes. Blaine blushed a little, rubbing at the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Still a little sore,” he admitted. Tina turned her head up to smile at him softly, winking at him.

“Give you something to think about when you’re sitting at that piano, huh?” she said, tone teasing. Blaine laughed and felt warm when he saw that Tina and Mike were laughing with him. Tina stood back up and reached forward, tugging Mike down to kiss him. “Come straight home, darling,” she said quietly, and Blaine turned a little, fiddling with his bag. “Go on, you two. Don’t miss that train.”

“Bye, Tina,” Blaine said quietly after Mike had slid from the room. “Thank you for everything.”

“Bye, baby,” Tina said quietly, reaching up to run her hands through his curls, smoothing them back. “Kurt and I are having lunch today. It’s going to work out, Blaine. Have a little faith.”

“I have all the faith in you, Tina.” Blaine was quick to reassure, but Tina was quicker to voice her disappointment. She tugged on his hair, shaking her head.

“Not in me, baby. Have a little more faith in Kurt,” she said, smoothing down his collar again. “You’re going to be late.”

He nodded, licking his lips as he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. He left soon after, meeting Mike in the lobby. They took the train together, sitting beside each other in relative silence, only speaking to say good-bye when they reached the theatre district. Mike hugged Blaine close, kissing his temple again before they split off to their respective jobs.

Blaine was a little distracted during the matinee, mostly working on autopilot and silently thankful that he had played these songs over and over again for as long as he had. When the cast had taken their final bows and the last notes still hung in the air, Blaine quietly slipped away to the locker room. He was stepping back into his clothes when he felt someone lean beside him.

“Take a week off, Anderson,” Mark said with a shake of his head. He crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at him. “Something’s up. And it’s affecting the show – you have vacation time, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Blaine said, nodding his head. His tone was quiet, reserved, remembering whispered promises of a trip to Europe with their well-earned vacation time.

“So, take a week off and get your shit together,” Mark said firmly, shaking his head. “I can’t keep covering your ass.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Blaine said, standing up and tying his bowtie with shaking fingers. Mark shook his head, swatting his hand away and doing it for him, sloppy and unfinished.

“Don’t understand why you wear these fucking things anyway,” he said, though the smile on his face told Blaine he was teasing. “I’ll have Cindy cover you tonight. Just go home, okay?”

“Thanks, Mark,” he whispered. Mark slapped his back good-naturedly.

“I told you, dude. Anytime.”

Blaine slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and slipped out of the theatre, texting Mike that he was just going to head home and to not wait for him for lunch. He slipped his headphones on and moved down the stairs and into the station, weaving through people to get back on the subway.

The twenty minute train ride felt like it took forever, but Blaine lost himself in the music. He walked home, shooting Tina a quick text of thanks and texting Mark plans to get lunch within the next week. He nodded at the doorman as he was let in, pulling out his headphones as he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for his and Kurt’s floor.

He closed his eyes as it ascended, pushing himself off and shuffling down the hall when it paused on the seventh floor. He moved to their apartment, unlocking it and shuffling inside. He tossed his keys aside and unwrapped the headphone cords from around his neck.

“Blaine?”

Blaine picked his head up at the sound of Kurt’s voice, smiling a little. “Yeah, it’s me,” he called back, bending down to untie his shoes. He heard the floorboards creak under Kurt’s footsteps, and he tilted his head up to smile at him when he felt his presence beside him. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” Kurt said, automatic, before he shook his head at himself. “I’m – I’m so sorry that I left, love – I’m – I am _so_ sorry.”

“Hey – hey,” Blaine said, soothing, as he stood up and gently held onto Kurt’s shoulders. “You didn’t know – there was _no_ way you could have known – please. Please don’t beat yourself up over this.”

Kurt watched him for a long moment, calculating, before he asked, “Come sit with me?”

“Of course.” Blaine nodded, stepping out of his shoes and dropping his duffel beside them. He moved quietly behind Kurt to sit in their living room on their couch. Blaine’s stomach twisted when he saw their contract sitting on the table, beside Blaine’s collar and Kurt’s set of keys.

“So, I talked to Tina,” Kurt started off, and Blaine nodded his head. “She – helped me understand some things about – about us.” Blaine nodded again, and let Kurt take his hand when he reached for it. Kurt squeezed gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of Blaine’s hand.

“Did you remember?” Blaine asked quietly.

“Sort of?” Kurt said quietly. Blaine tilted his head up to look up at him. Kurt was smiling at it. “I was shocked, I think, when Tina really broke it down for me? Mostly because – it _felt_ like it was coming out of nowhere, you know? I hit my head and suddenly, I can’t remember something that was – _is_ so important to us. But – as much as I was shocked, I wasn’t really… I wasn’t surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“As much as it _felt_ like this was the first time I was hearing this? I _knew_ that it wasn’t,” Kurt said, squeezing Blaine’s hand again. “I’m not saying that I _remember_ any of it, but – I think I knew about some of it.” He laughed quietly, shaking his head, “Though – I can’t say I was expecting to find out that we had – _play dates_ with Mike and Tina.”

Blaine blushed, but laughed with Kurt, shifting closer to him on the couch. He sucked in a breath at the pressure on his sore ass, but Kurt squeezed his hand gently. He wondered if Tina had mentioned his punishment from last night. “Did she tell you that they were your idea?”

 “Shut up – I still don’t believe either of you!” Kurt laughed, pushing against Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine just laughed harder, leaning his head on Kurt’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and let out a breath, relaxing into the couch as Kurt giggled beside him. “She did. She told me a lot of things, Blaine, and I just – I want you to know that I’m willing to try for you. I can’t promise it will be like what it was before, but I want – I want to be as good for you as I can be.”

“I want you to know,” Blaine said quietly, taking a deep breath before he continued, “that – that I _am_ just as happy with you as I always have, you know? This was – _is_ a big part of who we are, but I could – I could be just as happy without it. I’m only really happy with you, however I can have you. I can learn to –to go without. I can always just – go back to us being us.”

“But this _is_ us,” Kurt said, persisting. He turned and cupped Blaine’s cheek, pressing until Blaine was forced to catch his eye. “Beautiful – I – to just attempt to cut out this part of our lives just because I’ve forgotten would mean that we’d both have to cut out _years_ of being together. And I just couldn’t stomach that thought.” Kurt leaned forward and kissed Blaine, pressing their lips together firmly before he pulled away. “No. I refuse to just let this go. We’re going to get through this like we’ve gotten through everything else – _together_.”

Blaine smiled at him, nodding. He leaned forward and kissed Kurt back, resting their foreheads together after breaking away. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Kurt said, and Blaine’s smile grew because it sounded like a promise.

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

After that night, it started slow. Kurt would wake Blaine gently in the mornings and would leave out clothes for him while he showered. There was coffee in his mug and breakfast on the table. They would sit and eat together, twining ankles under the table and talking in low tones; Kurt had to wait to get medical clearance from the doctor, and the producers of Blaine’s show had been generous in giving him time off that didn’t dig into his vacation time. That first week, they slowly got to know each other again in intimate ways.

Kurt wanted to start off as slow as possible, so Blaine eased him into it. He sat at Kurt’s feet one night while they watched a movie, resting his head against Kurt’s knee. Kurt dropped a hand to Blaine’s head and slowly started to run his fingers through his loose curls, and he laughed abruptly a moment later – “Is this why there’s no more gel, Blaine?” he asked, and Blaine blushed but nodded. As much as he was not a fan of his hair without product, he had learned to be a little bit more lenient with just how much product he used after discovering the absolute bliss of Kurt’s fingers in his hair.

They sat like that for the first half hour or so, but Blaine felt Kurt getting anxious behind him. Finally, Kurt asked, low and quiet, “Can we – can you come up here so we can cuddle, Blaine?” Blaine turned and looked at him, nodding, before he slid up and onto the couch. He shifted a little so that he was laying on his side, legs curled up beside him, head and shoulders in Kurt’s lap. Kurt dropped both of his hands to Blaine’s body. His right hand continued to gently stroke his hair while his left rubbed gently circles into Blaine’s hip. Blaine hummed and sighed, relaxing under the touch.

He had nearly fallen asleep, but had been woken up when Kurt’s hand had traveled further south than his hip, fingers slipping under the hem of his sweatpants to gently cup his cock. Blaine stiffened a little, but Kurt shushed him, leaning down to press a kiss to Blaine’s ear. “It’s been too long,” he said in a whisper, and Blaine shivered and moaned, pressing up into his touch.

“Roll over,” Kurt said quietly, and Blaine did automatically. Kurt sucked in a sharp breath, and Blaine opened his eyes to look at him. Kurt was staring down at Blaine in a little bit of wonder, and Blaine shifted a little, uncomfortable under the sudden scrutiny. Kurt’s hand shifted so that his fingers were now wrapped around Blaine’s cock, and Kurt continued to talk as he stroked him to full hardness.

 “I could tell you to do anything, and you’d do it, wouldn’t you?” Kurt asked in a whisper, staring down at Blaine. Blaine’s stomach twisted a little unpleasantly, biting his lip and shaking his head only slightly – they had discussed safewords, _his_ Kurt – his _Sir_ – would know that it wasn’t quite true, would only ever say that as a part of the play. This Kurt, though, this new, strange, still beautiful, but a little broken Kurt was saying it like it was a fact. Like he could honestly, really ask Blaine to do anything and Blaine would, and Blaine wanted to stop – wanted to sit up and shake his head and explain that it didn’t quite work like that, that there were limits and safewords and Blaine could absolutely say no if he wanted to, and Kurt would have to stop.

Except, Blaine didn’t, because Blaine also knew how long it had been since Kurt had touched him like this, with quick, hard strokes and little twists right under the head of his cock, and Kurt had been so reluctant about the entire situation, and maybe – maybe Blaine shouldn’t ruin whatever enthusiasm Kurt did retain for it. If he safeworded right now, Kurt would never want to do anything again. He’d scare him off. He’d lose him again, and that couldn’t happen.

So Blaine lied. He arched his back and pressed his hips up, fucking up into Kurt’s fist as he panted. “Yes, absolutely – anything you said,” he said back in a breathy whisper, his breath hitching when Kurt squeezed at the base of his cock.

“What if I told you that you couldn’t come?” Kurt asked, and Blaine whined. Orgasm denial was usually a punishment, or something that they did when they were going at it for much longer. It usually wasn’t like Kurt to get him all worked up while they’re fooling around and then let him sit on it for a while. But he had lied to Kurt, so maybe he did deserve some punishment.

“Then I won’t come,” Blaine said back, whining the words, high-pitched and a little strained because Kurt’s still squeezing at the base of his cock, hasn’t moved his hand. “I won’t come, Kurt, I promise.”

“So eager to please me,” Kurt said, and he still sounded like he couldn’t quite believe it. It reminded Blaine of years ago, of high school, when they first started dating and Kurt would breathe into his cellphone late at night, whispering how excited he was to see Blaine the next day, like he couldn’t believe Blaine wanted him. It made Blaine whine a little, arch his back and press his face into Kurt’s lap. “Such a – a good boy.”

And Blaine moaned, loud and unabashed, then, because he had waited so long to hear that from Kurt, so fucking long that he could overlook Kurt’s hesitance to say it, could ignore the way his hands really seemed to pause, the way his body tensed, like he didn’t _want_ to say it. Blaine had heard it, Blaine could _feel_ it, and that was what mattered. Kurt started to stroke him again, quick and hard and so good, so good – Blaine cried out a little, arching his back.

“Please,” he begged, turning his face and pressing his cheek against Kurt’s hard cock. He kissed it over his jeans, mouthed at it, as he repeated himself over and over, “Please, Kurt – fuck, _please._ ”

“Please, what, Blaine?” Kurt asked, breathing out the words around a moan of his own. Kurt shifted, pressing himself closer to Blaine’s mouth and Blaine almost sobbed with it –

“Please, _please_ , Sir, let me come.”

Kurt hummed and pulled his hand away completely. Blaine cried out again, squirming a bit, and turned his head to look up at him. Kurt was staring down at him with an eyebrow raised. His face was flushed red and his mouth was parted, and Blaine wanted to kiss him so badly. Kurt licked his lips and brought his hand, rubbing it up Blaine’s stomach, sliding it up to his face. Kurt cupped Blaine’s cheek, swiping his thumb over Blaine’s cheekbone.

“Go to our room and get naked. I’ll be in there in a moment,” Kurt said quietly, and Blaine nodded, falling off the couch in his rush to comply. He moved down the hall into their bedroom, undoing his clothes as he went. He tossed his t-shirt into the hamper, his sweatpants and boxers following quickly.

He slid onto their bed and stretched himself out on the mattress. He wasn’t sure how Kurt wanted him, if he should be on his knees – but he didn’t want to push, and that would be pushing, wouldn’t it? – or stay like this. He wasn’t sure if he should stretch his arms up or if they were fine at his sides, whether he should spread his legs or keep them crossed at the ankles. Should he lie on his stomach or on his back?

The insecurities kept building and building the longer he stayed in there on his own. Usually, Kurt would tie him up, gag him, and give him some sense of security that he was still around even when he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, hadn’t thought to look at the clock when he first laid down, but after about ten minutes he turned onto his stomach and stared at it quietly, watching the minutes tick on.

After another ten minutes, he thought about it again, about putting his clothes back on and walking out to the living room and telling Kurt that this was too much, too soon. Except the longer he laid there, the more time he had to think; maybe Kurt was taking his time, was trying to make this special, make this good for Blaine. He’d be so disappointed if Blaine ruined it by moving, by breaking it up. So he stayed, he closed his eyes, and he started to hum quietly to himself.

Eventually, the bed dipped beside him, and Kurt’s hand was in his curls again. “You fall asleep on me?” Kurt asked him, and Blaine hummed, opening his eyes and looking up at him. Kurt was smiling at him, shirtless, but still wearing pants. Blaine sat up a little, pushing himself up onto his elbows so that he could really look at Kurt.

“Waited a while,” Blaine said quietly, and Kurt hummed. He reached up to drag his hand through Blaine’s hair again, brushing it back off of his forehead. “Where were you?”

“Working up my nerve,” Kurt admitted, smiling at him a little sheepishly. He kept stroking Blaine’s hair, and eventually Blaine laid back down, settling on his back again. Kurt licked his lips, “I don’t think I can do this yet, Blaine,” he admitted quietly. “I thought I could. You were – you were _so_ gorgeous on the couch, and I just – when I told you to come in here, I thought I could. I really did.”

 “What happened?” Blaine asked quietly, and he slipped away from Kurt so that he could slide off the bed, wanting to be covered up, feeling far too vulnerable.

“I just – I stood up, and I was going to follow you, and I made it to the door and I realized that I didn’t know what to do. What you wanted me to do. And I just – I panicked.” Kurt was watching him from the bed, looking so, so desperately sad. Blaine pulled his sweatpants on quickly and rushed back over. He climbed on the bed and pulled Kurt’s face close enough that he could kiss away the frown, pressing their lips together insistently.

“I want you to do what you’re comfortable with. If that’s missionary sex, under the covers, with the lights off, then that’s what we’ll do. For the rest of my life, if you wanted,” Blaine said, pressing insistent, hard kisses against Kurt’s lips, his cheeks, his nose. “Please. Please know. That I only expect two things from you – for you to love me, and for you to be yourself.”

Kurt smiled. He leaned up and pressed their lips together. He brought a hand up and pressed it to Blaine’s cheek holding him there. They kissed easily, languidly, and Kurt eventually pushed Blaine down, pressing him into the mattress as their kisses got a little bit more passionate. Kurt bit Blaine’s lip, pulling it with him as he pulled away from the kiss.

“I think I can do that,” Kurt promised. Blaine smiled into the next kiss.

The next morning was much of the same routine; Kurt woke Blaine up and Blaine shuffled into the shower, taking his time and coming back out to find clothes laid out for him. He dressed on instinct, pulling on the clothes laid out, just picking a bowtie at random and the closest pair of socks that matched. He slid his shoes on and shuffled out of the bedroom to find food and coffee and beautiful, wonderful Kurt in the kitchen.

Breakfast was a little quiet, but Kurt hooked his foot around Blaine’s ankle, sliding his toes up his calf. When Blaine was putting their dishes in the sink, Kurt snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I like this color on you,” he whispered into Blaine’s ear, pressing a kiss just below it on his neck. Blaine stiffened a little at the phrase, the particular phrase, and turned his head a little.

“Tina tell you to say that?” he asked in the same low tone. Kurt made a soft noise and pressed another kiss to Blaine’s neck, laughing.

“No,” he said around another chuckle, shaking his head and nibbling on Blaine’s ear, “I’ve always loved you in red.”

Blaine shivered at the words, leaning back a bit more heavily into Kurt. He hadn’t really remembered, but it was close. “Thank you,” he said in a whisper, not adding the habitual “Sir” because Kurt still got oddly stiff whenever he heard Blaine say it. Kurt pressed another kiss to his neck and stepped away so Blaine could finish the dishes. Blaine heard him turn the television on in the living room, and he let the low hum of a random sitcom drown out his thoughts while he did the dishes.

When he finished, he shuffled into the living room, leaning against the doorway while he watched Kurt quietly. Kurt turned his head to look at him, patting the space beside him on the couch with one hand. Blaine shook his head, licking his lips. “I’m meeting Mike for lunch today.”

Kurt turned to look at the clock and frowned again, turning back to ask, “You’re leaving now?”

“Soon,” Blaine said with a nod. He licked his lips and rubbed his hands down his pants, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. “I was going to see the show first and eat with him after.”

“Oh.” Kurt let out a breath, and he leaned forward to turn off the television. He leaned back and caught Blaine’s eye. “It’s – been a while since I’ve seen his show. Would you mind if I came with you?”

Blaine would. He actually really, really would. He had decided to make these plans so he could talk to Mike privately about his and Kurt’s weird dynamic, but he didn’t want to hurt Kurt’s feelings by turning him down. He nodded stiffly and shuffled on his feet. “Of course not,” he said as sincerely as he could muster; he obviously did a decent enough job because Kurt brightened considerably.

“Great! I’ll just put on something a little more appropriate for the theatre,” he said, standing up and leaving Blaine there. Blaine didn’t move until he heard the bedroom door close, and he sat down on the couch, staring at his phone.

**To: Your Secret Boyfriend xoxo (10:08)**

**_Kurt’s coming._ **

He put his phone on the table and rested his head in his hands, sighing as he waited for a response. It came a moment later, phone buzzing loudly on the table.

**From: Your Secret Boyfriend xoxo (10:10)**

**_I can’t tell if that’s good news or bad news, but I’ll put an extra comp ticket with box office. We’re still on for lunch, though, right?_ **

Blaine typed out a quick response, explaining that, yes, they were, but Kurt would be there this time as well, before he pocketed his phone and held his head in his hands. He should tell Kurt. It wasn’t Kurt’s fault that he couldn’t remember that his lunches with Mike Chang are important to their relationship; he should just tell Kurt that he needed to do this alone because he needed his own private subspace, sometimes. He needed to talk to another sub, to someone who got it, so that he could have some time to himself outside of their relationship.

His phone buzzed again.

**From: Your Secret Boyfriend xoxo (10:21)**

**_It’s fine, man. It’s been a while since I saw Kurt anyway. I’ve missed him, too, you know._ **

Blaine smiled at his phone ridiculously large, shaking his head as he typed out his own response. A warm feeling of fondness grew in his chest for Mike all over again. He clicked “Send” and leaned back against the couch, waiting for Kurt as patiently as he could.

**To: Your Secret Boyfriend xoxo (10:22)**

**_I know you have, but I can’t promise much. I still miss him, too._ **

 

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

_“Blaine, this isn’t good.”_

Blaine sighed heavily into the receiver of his phone, turning his head around to look down the hallway where Kurt had disappeared to. After Blaine had gotten the call from Mike, Kurt had made the announcement that he was going to shower and get ready for bed. The last thing Blaine wanted would be for Kurt to walk in on this conversation.

“I’m aware, Mike,” Blaine said when he realized Kurt was not coming back. He turned back around and propped his feet up on the table in front of him. He crossed them at the ankles and leaned his head back until he was staring up at their ceiling. “I just don’t know what else to do.”

_“You use your fucking safeword,”_ Mike said back, hissing the words right into Blaine’s ear. Blaine sighed and shifted on the couch, shaking his head despite knowing that Mike couldn’t see. _“That’s what it’s there for. You use your safeword whenever you feel uncomfortable. You shouldn’t be afraid to use the word that is, by its definition, there to keep you safe.”_

“But what if that’s it, then?” Blaine turned his head again to look in the direction of their bedroom another time, half-expecting Kurt to be there. He wasn’t, and Blaine could still hear the shower running, but his nerves were a little shot and he was just so anxious, lately. “What if I safeword and he thinks it’s because of something he did and then he doesn’t want to try anymore?”

Mike hummed on the other end of the line, and Blaine turned back around. He started picking at the knee of his jeans, waiting for Mike to respond. After a while, he did, but Blaine wasn’t sure it was exactly what he wanted to hear. _“But it is, isn’t it? You feel uncomfortable because of something Kurt’s doing.”_

“I feel uncomfortable because I know that Kurt’s uncomfortable.” Blaine had the absolute prickling need to correct Mike. Mike sighed again, and Blaine could hear him shifting around where he was at.

_“Same thing – look, Blaine. How long are you going to keep putting yourselves through this? Kurt’s never going to get back to where he was if you’re letting him believe he’s already there,”_ Mike said pointedly, and Blaine let out a sigh of his own. _“Tina talked to him, but she can only tell him so much. It’s **your** relationship, not ours. Because as much as we do together, my relationship with Tina and your relationship with Kurt are two completely different relationships.”_

“I know, I know,” Blaine said. He shifted on the couch and turned his head again when the shower turned off. He stared at the bedroom door before lowering his voice to a whisper to speak with Mike again. “Listen, I gotta go – Kurt’s out of the shower.”

_“Blaine – you have to talk to him eventua—”_

He felt bad the minute after he ended the call so abruptly, but he didn’t allow himself to dwell on it for long. He stood up from the couch and made his way down the hallway into the bedroom, smiling softly at Kurt when he entered. Kurt was sitting up against the headboard, reading a book quietly. He was still a little damp, his hair sticking a bit to his forehead. He was wearing his reading glasses, but Blaine couldn’t quite make out the title of the book in his hands. It looked a little worn.

“What’re you reading?” Blaine asked as he moved over to the hamper, pulling off his clothes and setting them inside before he slid into bed beside him. Kurt hummed and flipped the book so Blaine could see the cover, and Blaine smiled happily when he saw one of the many, many books Kurt had so adorably bought the minute they both had decided this was what they wanted.

“I thought it might trigger something,” he said quietly, marking his page before he set it aside onto their bedside table. “Memories or – or even a better understanding for what’s going on, but—”

“Nothing?” Blaine asked, and he tried his best to not sound so disappointed. By the way Kurt sighed and shifted beside him, it was obvious that he hadn’t succeeded in the slightest.

 “No, baby, I’m sorry,” Kurt said, and he turned his head to press the apology into Blaine’s curls with a kiss. Blaine relaxed further into him, shaking his head.

“Please, don’t worry about it, Kurt,” he said back earnestly, his voice full of conviction despite how lowly he had whispered it. “You have so many other things to worry about. It’ll come back.”

Kurt hummed his response back into Blaine’s curls, pressing another kiss there before he slid down and over, straddling Blaine’s lap. He pulled on Blaine’s hair until he leaned his neck back a bit, giving Kurt more skin to attack with his mouth. “I love,” Kurt said, muttering the words between kisses and bites and licks, “how optimistic you are.” He bit down on the spot right behind Blaine’s ear, and Blaine bucked up into it, letting out a moan. “I’ve always loved that about you.”

Kurt pulled back to press their lips together, tugging on Blaine’s hair to bring him up the rest of the way. It hurt, a little, enough, and Blaine’s hands fell to Kurt’s hips. He held him there tightly, keeping him there, as he opened his mouth to Kurt’s searching tongue. They kissed, just kissed, for a while, the original heat of Kurt’s spontaneity a little lost to each other. The kisses became quieter and quieter, more loose and languid and really just _there_ until Kurt pulled away and smiled down at Blaine.

“I love you,” he said, and Blaine closed his eyes and nodded. Kurt’s voice had taken that deeper, breathy quality that it did whenever he lost himself to sensation, and Blaine was a little stunned at how much he could feel that Kurt meant it. “Blaine, if nothing else – if I remember nothing else, I need you to remember nothing else than that – _I love you_.”

Blaine nodded again and leaned forward, pressing his face into Kurt’s chest and staying there, breathing in and out slowly and softly while Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine’s hair.

“I can’t promise that I’ll remember, or that everything will be okay, or anything else, but I can promise you that I will always love you,” Kurt said, and Blaine leaned up, surged up, and pressed their lips together insistently.

“I love you, too. Forever. Always,” he said, mumbling the words against Kurt’s lips, and Kurt leaned back and laughed. He ran his fingers up through Blaine’s hair, brushing the curls off of his forehead before he traced his fingers down to gently poke Blaine’s nose with the very tip of his index finger.

“Well,” he said quietly, leaning back in for another kiss. “I would certainly hope so.”

They had fallen asleep after sharing more languid kisses, Kurt eventually having slid off of Blaine to lie beside him again. Kurt woke Blaine up again the next morning with more kisses, giggling at Blaine’s protests about morning breath. “If you got up with the alarm, your teeth would be brushed, too,” Kurt teased him, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and biting down on it gently, but pointedly, with his clean teeth. Blaine wrinkled his nose and pulled away with an overdramatic groan.

“Yes, but waking up like this is much more fun,” Blaine said, and Kurt laughed, reaching down to swat at Blaine’s ass.

“Get up and shower,” Kurt said, and his voice still wavered a bit on the command, not having quite developed his usual casual tone to it. Blaine still hummed happily and rolled over and off the bed. Kurt smiled at him as he shuffled into the bathroom, pausing when he heard the phone ring.

“It’s me – I got it,” Kurt said, waving him away as he reached into his pants pocket for his cell phone. “Hello?”

Blaine walked into the bathroom and quickly went about undressing himself and quickly showering. He took great care to wash his hair, frowning when he realized there was some sensitivity on his neck. When he left the shower and wrapped his towel around his waist, he reached up to wipe away the fog from the mirror. He laughed a little when he saw what it was; Kurt had marked his neck the night before like a horny teenager in the back of their dad’s truck. He leaned forward and gently poked the largest hickey, hissing a little when it was more tender than it had appeared. He shook his head fondly as he turned his attention away so that he could brush his teeth. He ran some product through his hair and left the room, smiling when he found his clothes laid out for him again.

He could hear Kurt talking in the living room, and he was vaguely curious about who would possibly call him this early in the morning. He rushed through the process a little, mostly just grabbing the first thing that seemed close enough to right, dressing fast and a little carelessly. He slipped in his shoes and slid out of the bedroom, turning the light off behind him. He walked down the small hallway, leaning against the wall while he watched Kurt anxious pace the space of their living room.

“Do you really think that it would help?” Kurt asked, and he glanced up and smiled at Blaine gently. He gestured toward the kitchen, and Blaine shuffled over, smiling much larger when he saw the plate of breakfast prepared for him on the table. He slid into his seat and slowly started to eat the eggs and bacon left for him. “No – no, I agree. Maybe this would be the best thing for us. I know he’d probably feel more comfortable, and I’d – I think I’d benefit from it as well. I’m sorry, you just have to know that – it’s not you, I’m just… still getting used to the idea.”

Blaine frowned a little, perking up at the conversation. Kurt moved into the kitchen, waving away Blaine’s curiosity with a flick of his wrist. He went to the counter and began preparing their coffees, stirring Blaine’s mug before bringing it over as he listened to the other person talk.

“How about tonight, then?” Kurt asked, turning to look at Blaine for a moment, thoughtfully, before he turned back to his own mug of coffee. “Blaine goes back to work in three days, and I go back in five, and I’d just – I’d much rather we see if we can work this out so it’s not a distraction to either of us.”

Blaine took a sip of his coffee, settling in to wait while Kurt came over and took the seat across from him. He slid his own plate closer to himself, picking up his fork and pushing the food around as he listened again. “Great, we’ll see you at six, then.” Kurt hummed, smiling into the phone as he said good-bye and hung up.

“Share with the class?” Blaine asked, and Kurt laughed, shaking his head at Blaine. He took a bite of his eggs and wrinkled his nose, getting up and going into the fridge and grabbing the ketchup. He squirted some on his eggs and passed it over to Blaine who put some on his bacon.

“That was Tina,” Kurt finally admitted, and Blaine’s head perked up. “She said that -- well, she suggested that maybe the next time we experiment, that maybe we do it with her and Mike there.”

Blaine frowned, narrowing his eyes at his plate of food. “Did she say why?”

“Just that maybe it would help us both,” Kurt shrugged his shoulders, putting a little bit of pepper on his eggs before he started eating them in earnest. “She said that you’d probably feel safer knowing that another Domme was there to _insure_ the safety, and she said that it might help me to see her and Mike. To understand the dynamics better – what you possibly expect from me.”

Blaine nodded, licking his lips. “You agreed?”

“I did – is that okay?” Kurt pulled his head up and looked at Blaine, already looking to apologize. Blaine reached over the table and grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

“Of course it is, Kurt – of course,” he said, squeezing it one more time before he let it go, going back to his meal. “If it will make you more comfortable, it’s great for me.”

Kurt smiled at him, winking, before he turned back to his own breakfast. When Kurt was sufficiently distracted, Blaine pulled out his cellphone and typed out a quick text to Mike.

**To: Your Secret Boyfriend (9:43)**

**_Tattle on me to Tina one more time, and I’ll bite your dick the next time I’m blowing you._ **

He went back to his breakfast, grinning a little when he felt his phone vibrate with Mike’s response.

**From: Your Secret Boyfriend (9:44)**

**_You know Tina will spank your ass so hard you won’t sit for a week if you so much as graze your teeth against my dick. She likes it too much to let you get away with that._ **

Blaine snorted, waving away Kurt’s concern. He held up his phone to show who he was texting and Kurt rolled his eyes, muttering something to himself that Blaine hadn’t quite caught as he was too busy replying:

**To: Your Secret Boyfriend (9:46)**

**_It’d be worth it._ **

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

“Are you nervous?” Kurt asked him as they walked up the stairs to Tina and Mike’s apartment at five-thirty. Kurt had requested that they stop for a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers – “It’s the least we can do, Blaine, _honestly_ ,” – and then had maybe tugged Blaine along far too early. Still, Blaine had to laugh a little that the question was directed at him.

“I should be asking you that, I think,” Blaine voiced his exact thoughts. Kurt shrugged his shoulders, fiddling with the roses in the bouquet quietly. They turned the corner and started down the long hallway that led to Tina and Mike’s apartment.

“I’m nervous, yes, but mostly because I’m still not quite sure what to expect,” Kurt said, and he paused right outside the door, not quite knocking just yet. Blaine switched the hand that was holding the bottle of wine, reaching out to gently take Kurt’s hand in his own.

“You know how it’s usually just you and me loving each other?” Blaine asked, and Kurt smiled at him, squeezing his hand in response. Blaine ducked his head to look down at their fingers with his on soft smile, continuing softly, “It’s like that, just with two more people to share in that love. Mike and Tina aren’t doing this as a – as a sex thing. You wouldn’t have allowed it if they had. It’s about love. This thing between us – just you and me – it’s been about that, too. So. Just don’t expect anything more than what you usually expect from me. Just – know that it’s going to come from two more people than usual.”

Kurt hummed his agreement, squeezing Blaine’s hand one last time before he dropped it, reaching up so he could knock on Tina’s door. It opened a minute later to show Tina who grinned widely at the both of them. “Come in, come in!” She opened the door a little wider, revealing Mike casually hovering a little further down the entrance hall, leaning against a table. Kurt extended the bouquet to her, and she laughed happily, accepting the flowers with another large grin. “They’re beautiful,” she told them earnestly before she turned to Mike with a bit of a dismissive motion. “Go get me a vase, darling?”

Blaine placed the wine on that same entrance table, and Tina turned to Kurt with a warm smile. “Your idea?” she asked him, and Kurt nodded. She leaned up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, grasping his bicep gently. “Very sweet of you, but we don’t drink before we do this,” she told him quietly, and Blaine bit his lip; he may have mentioned that, but Kurt had been insistent, saying it was in good manners to bring something for the hosts. Kurt’s cheeks were a delightful shade of pink when Blaine tilted his head back up to watch them quietly, and it made Blaine smile a little. He moved closer, pressing his side up against Kurt’s. Kurt placed a hand on the small of his back, letting his fingers gently press there.

Mike came back a little while later with the flowers in the vase, and Tina made a pleased noise. She ran her hand down Mike’s arm as she passed, calling over her shoulder for them to follow. “I ordered Thai,” she announced as she placed the flowers by the window in their living room, gesturing to the pile of take-out containers on the coffee table. “I figured we could eat and then talk about what you two maybe wanted to do a little later.”

“Blaine and I already decided,” Kurt said as he took a seat on the couch. Tina sat beside him before Blaine could even attempt to, and Blaine frowned for a second until he saw Mike sit at Tina’s feet. There was still the armchair a little further away, but Blaine didn’t want to completely separate himself from the group. His stomach twisting a little, he sat beside Mike on the floor. Kurt leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of Blaine’s head, and Blaine’s stomach settled a little. Still, the look Mike was giving him made him feel a little uneasy, but he couldn’t quite figure out why.

Mike handed him a take-out container before he settled in to start eating himself, nudging Blaine’s leg with his foot as Tina and Kurt talked over them. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for Kurt and Tina to talk as if Mike and Blaine weren’t there, but Blaine was still sort of on edge because what was normal wasn’t normal anymore; Blaine hated that he never knew how much of this Kurt was doing because he remembered and how much he was doing because someone had told him to or because he was doing it accidentally or –

Mike nudged him with his elbow, raising his eyebrows. “You should probably pay attention,” Mike whispered, and Blaine rolled his eyes. He listened up anyway, just in time to catch that Kurt was going over with Tina what they had talked about over lunch that day. Kurt was going to tie Blaine up, ankles and wrists, then spank him lightly. He’d be naked – something that he said he was quite comfortable with in front of both Tina and Mike – and Kurt would only use his hand.

“What would you like for Mike and me to do?” Tina asked kindly, and Blaine tuned them out again to continue eating his dinner. He knew he should be paying attention, this was important, but he couldn’t bring himself to really focus. He knew it wouldn’t be the same, be what he was used to, be anything other than what had been happening the past few weeks; Kurt would get to a certain point that he’d be uncomfortable, and he’d stop before they ever really got started. Blaine had resigned himself to this, had known it as they had been discussing it this afternoon, and, if anything, he was just hoping to get this all over with so that maybe he and Kurt could go home to a movie and some cuddling.

Blaine refocused when Mike stood up, quietly collecting everyone’s containers to take them into the kitchen. Tina slid off the couch and affectionately ruffled Blaine’s curls as she passed, moving over to the small chest that sat in the corner of the living room. She pulled a chain out of her shirt and used the key to unlock the chest, opening it up and taking out a few lengths of beautiful silk ropes. Mike came back into the living room and moved to stand beside Tina. She gripped his shirt and pulled him down into a long, languid kiss; Blaine sighed and leaned back against Kurt’s legs, watching them with so much jealousy he felt a little ashamed. Kurt dropped a hand to Blaine’s head, gently running his fingers through Blaine’s curls as Tina and Mike kept kissing.

Finally, Tina pulled away – “Hands and knees,” she ordered quietly, and Mike smoothly slid to the position on the floor. Tina turned to look at Kurt. “C’mon, then.”

Kurt nudged at Blaine until he moved out of the way, and Kurt stood up from the couch. He looked at Blaine expectantly, gesturing for him to follow. Furrowing his brows, Blaine stood and moved with Kurt, pressing up against his side when they stopped beside Mike and Tina. Kurt placed his hand on the small of Blaine’s back, and Blaine turned to look at him to find Kurt staring down at Mike. Blaine turned his gaze there, as well.

“Would you mind if Mike was also naked, Kurt?” Tina asked as she closed the lid of the chest and relocked it, slipping the key back into her cleavage. Kurt shook his head, and Tina smiled, turning back to Mike. “Strip, darling. You and Blaine can help each other.”

Blaine’s eyebrows rose a little; maybe he should have been paying closer attention. Mike stood up and moved to Blaine with a shy smile, and Blaine acted out of instinct. He grabbed Mike’s shirt and dragged him closer, fingers working deftly on his buttons revealing more and more of Mike’s torso. Tina was talking quietly with Kurt – something about the ropes and specific knots – but Blaine was mostly paying attention to Mike’s soft smile.

“It’ll be okay,” Mike said quietly, and Blaine pushed up on his tiptoes to kiss him softly. Mike pulled away, shaking his head a little, pushing Blaine’s shirt off of his shoulders. It crumpled to the ground, and Mike’s soon joined it. They made much quicker work of their pants and underwear, socks and shoes being shoved off as a bit of an afterthought. Mike turned back to look at Tina and Kurt, who were silently watching the two of them.

 “If you’re planning on spanking Blaine, I’d suggest that we position him on the couch,” Tina said, and Kurt nodded quietly. Blaine closed his eyes for a brief minute before he turned to go to the couch, because there it was; behind Kurt’s silence, behind the thin press of his lips, there was the hesitance in his eyes, the discomfort.

“Hands and knees on the couch, beautiful,” Kurt said, mostly as an afterthought as Blaine was already halfway there. His voice shook a little, and the command felt more like a question. Tina said something quietly to Kurt before ordering Mike to position himself back on the ground.

“Watch me,” Tina told Kurt quietly, and Blaine turned his head to see that she was slowly pushing Mike into the position that she wanted. She took the silk ropes and started delicately and intricately wrapping them around Mike’s forearms and wrists, making knots where they needed to be. She was speaking quietly with Kurt the whole time, pointing out exactly how she was doing each one. When Mike’s arms were suitably tied, Tina brightly turned to Kurt with an encouraging smile. “Now, you.”

Kurt dragged over the duffel bag that he had packed, unzipping it and pulling out his own lengths of long, soft silk ropes. He moved over to Blaine with a small, nervous smile, and Blaine tilted his lips up to return it as best as he could. “I’m going to tie you up, now,” Kurt told him quietly, and he turned to look at Tina who nodded at him, reassuring him that he was doing right.

“It’s good to let him know what you’re doing as you do it,” Tina said, her tone full of encouragement. She was rubbing a hand up and down Mike’s back gently, and she leaned down to press a kiss to his temple; Blaine turned away, his stomach knotting up again in an awful fit of jealousy.

It took Kurt a little longer, his fingers unpracticed with the exact intricacies, a little clumsy with the knots. Blaine patiently held position, keeping his head down so that he could follow Kurt’s movements with his eyes. He bit his lip to keep from correcting Kurt when he went wrong, because Tina was quick to do so; he closed his eyes and relaxed a little, letting four separate hands help him feel a little bit more secure as the soft ropes slowly wrapped around him.

Twenty minutes later and Blaine was bound up. Tina had untied Mike almost immediately after she had shown Kurt what to do; Mike had always had a general dislike for being tied up, and Blaine had always wondered if it had to do with him being a dancer, if it felt more dangerous for Mike to not be able to move at all. It made Blaine feel safe and secure, tied down to reality for lack of a less offensive pun. Kurt rubbed his hand down Blaine’s back when he finished, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Are you going to gag him?” Tina asked from where she sat on the ground beside the couch. Mike’s head was pillowed in her lap, and she was stroking through his hair, pressing soft kisses to his temple every so often, as a reward for allowing her to push his boundaries. Blaine closed his eyes again and rested his head against his bound wrists, his ass pressed up into the air.

 “Should I?” Kurt asked, and Blaine made a soft noise, picking up his head to look between the two of them. Mike had his eyes closed, body curled up a bit; he was wearing his boxers again, and Blaine felt horribly exposed for the first time since they had done this. He was used to being naked in front of Mike and Tina – and he was _definitely_ used to being naked in front of Kurt, but – but now it felt like he was naked in front of Mike and Tina and… a stranger. Because this Kurt was still Kurt, but he wasn’t. He was Kurt from eight years ago, from before college, from before that first fateful night that Kurt had held him down and called him a good boy, that first night when Blaine had come without being touched, from before all the years of learning each other over again. This was a Kurt who still thought kinky meant pressing Blaine up against their living room wall or fucking on the couch with the blinds still wide open or smearing Blaine’s come across his stomach and drawing little pictures in it. This was a Kurt who knew nothing of how to even fasten a ball gag, who had to be walked through knots that he used to be able to tie with his eyes closed.

This was a Kurt who asked _Tina_ what he should do to Blaine, a Kurt who didn’t know to ask _Blaine_ what should be done. This wasn’t a situation he had been anticipating; this was a situation where Blaine had no control. Where he was being used to benefit others without the slightest thought of his own well-being.

Kurt’s fingers were suddenly on his face, tilting his chin up. “I’m going to gag you, sweetheart,” he said quietly, and Blaine’s mouth fell open in a silent protest. He turned his gaze to Tina, but she was staring down at Mike, tracing her finger along his face. Blaine turned back to Kurt who was watching him quietly, hesitant and so cautious but still so desperately open, and Blaine remembered that Kurt was trying, that he _was_ doing this for him, and so he let Kurt press the ball into his mouth, closing his eyes as it was fastened behind his head.

He waited for the bell, waited for someone’s hand to be wrapped in his own, some way that he could signal his way out of this, but nothing came. Instead, Kurt slid a hand down his back and started gently stroking his backside. Blaine’s eyes flew open and he turned his head to look at Tina, the protest muffled around the gag, but Tina was still watching Mike quietly, and Mike’s eyes were still closed, his face pressed into Tina’s stomach and –

_Smack._

Blaine cried out as the first slap hit his ass, Kurt’s hand hitting him without warning. It came back and rubbed gently at the spot, and he dropped his head down to his hands, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Kurt didn’t know any better, Kurt didn’t know any better, Kurt didn’t know any –

_Smack._

The next one was harder than the first, like Kurt had gotten a feel for it and figured he might try some more power. It landed on his left cheek, and it stung much worse than the first. Kurt’s hand was rubbing at his ass again, and Blaine took another deep breath and –

_Smack – smack – SMACK!_

Three in a row, one on each cheek before the third slapped right in the middle, and Blaine made a loud noise around the gag. He was drooling around the gag, and Tina and Mike _weren’t even watching, what the fuck,_ and there was no way for him to get out of this, there was no way to make this right, there was nothing he could do but stay there and –

_Smack. Smack._

\- - take it, nothing he could do but let Kurt do whatever he saw fit. He just had to stay there and wait until Tina looked up. Wait until Mike said something was wrong. Wait until the world righted itself again because everything was topsy-turvy and so fucking _wrong_ , that Blaine didn’t even know how to correct this himself. He was tied up and gagged and –

_Smack! SMACK!_

\-- fucking helpless. He was fucking helpless against this. He didn’t feel safe and he didn’t feel right and _why were Tina and Mike letting this happen._ This was supposed to be safe. This was supposed to be the way to make this right, but it was going so terribly, terribly wrong and –

_SMACK. Smack – SMACK!_

\-- he let out a cry around the gag, and Kurt’s hand paused on his ass. It rubbed there for a moment, and Blaine pulled his head up, thinking maybe he was stopping, maybe this was over, maybe they’d pull the gag off and he could safeword and this could be over and he’d never, ever have to do this again. He could get used to Kurt not knowing what it meant to be Blaine’s Sir. He could get used to vanilla sex and picking out his own outfits and cooking his own meals again. He could get up with the alarm and he could become independent and strong and not have to rely so heavily on Kurt. He had been at this long enough, hadn’t he? He should be over his silly abandonment issues by now. Kurt wasn’t going to leave him, he wasn’t, he couldn’t, why would he?

“Tina?” Kurt asked, and Blaine made another sound of protest because he was _right there_. He was right there, and Kurt was asking Tina. Tina, who hadn’t been watching as she had promised. Tina, who was still watching Mike quietly, still had his hand gripped tightly in hers. Tina, who was supposed to protect Blaine as if she were his Domme, as if he was her sub, as if they were the ones so desperately in love, but they weren’t. Tina wasn’t him. Tina wasn’t Kurt. Tina was fucking Tina Cohen-Chang. She was their friend from glee club, Kurt’s roommate in college, and the holder of the spare key to their apartment. She watered their plants when they went back to Ohio and sat front row at both of their performances when she could get away. She was a friend, she was a lover, but she was not the person staring down at Mike right now, disinterested and cold, like she didn’t care that Blaine didn’t want this, like she didn’t care that Kurt didn’t know what he was doing. “Tina, he’s – he’s screaming, I—”

“Take his gag off,” Tina said, and Blaine made a noise of approval, tilting his head up so that it was easier for Kurt’s clumsy fingers to get it off. The minute the ball left his mouth, Blaine licked his lips and cleared his throat. It was dry and raspy and wrong, everything was just so _wrong_.

 “Blaine?” Kurt asked quietly, settled on the couch. Blaine closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his body shaking a little in anxious nerves at what he was about to do. This would ruin it, this would crush it, this would make everything stop hurting physically but make it all the more terrible emotionally because there was no way Kurt wasn’t going to freak out. This was supposed to be about Blaine’s safety, but he had never felt more uncomfortable using the word before. Because this wasn’t going to just end this particular night, this particular activity – this was going to end it all.

Kurt’s fingers pressed on his chin, and he forced Blaine to tilt his head back up. “Look at me, please,” Kurt whispered, and the desperation alone in his voice forced Blaine’s eyes open. “Are you okay? Should I keep going?”

He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t, but Blaine wasn’t sure if he wanted Kurt to stop. It was this weird trap, like he was a dog chasing his tail, close enough but never quite there, and he must have been quiet for too long, because Kurt was turning to Tina again – “Tina?”

“Blaine. Green. Yellow. Red.”

Blaine closed his eyes, his shoulders trembling, but he shook his head and managed to rasp out – “Green. Green – sorry – go, please.”

There was a pause, a long pause, with Kurt’s hand stilling on his back. Kurt must have looked to Tina again, because soon Tina was quietly saying, “Well, go on, then,” and Blaine looked up in just enough time to see her gesture for Kurt to continue. She caught his eye for a moment before she turned her gaze back down to Mike and Blaine closed his eyes, waiting for it.

They started off as lighter taps, and Kurt paused after the first one to say, quietly, “I know we agreed on twenty, but I sort of lost count.” Then he followed that with another two soft smacks before his hand really landed hard on Blaine’s already-red ass.

Blaine licked his lips and pressed them together to keep himself from making any more noise; his forehead was pressed tightly against his bound wrists.

He tried to keep count, he did, but after the fifth hard smack right to the middle of his ass, Blaine couldn’t think about anything more than the pain.

 

_“But what if I hurt you?” Kurt asked quietly, fingers stilling briefly in Blaine’s hair. Blaine was curled up beside him on the bed, watching quietly as Kurt outlined their contract in a tiny little notebook on his lap. “I know you said you like pain, and I know you said that you’d never let me, but – God, Blaine, I’m just so scared I’m going to hurt you. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I did.”_

_“Well,” Blaine said quietly, pausing a little as he thought about what he could say to make Kurt feel better. “I mean. You’re going to hurt me. And – I’m going to hurt you. That’s what – people tend to do.”_

_“Blaine, you know that’s not what I meant,” Kurt interrupted, scoffing a little. He tugged on Blaine’s hair absently the next time his fingers ran through the curls, and Blaine groaned, shifting closer to Kurt on the bed._

_“Seems silly, though,” Blaine said back, mumbling the words into Kurt’s shirt, “for you to get upset about something that’s bound to happen anyway.”_

_Kurt was quiet beside him, doodling on the corner of the page as he thought. Blaine brought a hand around and rubbed it gently over Kurt’s thigh, stroking him there for a long, tense moment. Finally, Kurt muttered, “I just – I want to do this to help you. And hurting you just seems counterproductive.”_

_Blaine made a noise of protest and shook his head, turning to press a kiss to Kurt’s clothed chest. He didn’t say anything for a while, though, mostly considering how best to explain it. Finally, he pulled away so that his voice was unobstructed, so that he could quietly say, “Sometimes I need a little bit of pain to remind me of how much worse it could really be. Sometimes – sometimes, Kurt, I need help feeling anything at all, and I just – I trust you. I’ve always trusted you, Kurt – with everything. And I think – I think you need to learn to trust me, too.”_

_“I do trust you!” Kurt protested almost immediately, so fast that Blaine couldn’t help but smile at him softly, shaking his head._

_“Then trust me with this. Trust me when I say, I will never, **ever** let you hurt me.”_

**SMACK.**

Blaine cried out as another slap landed on his ass, and he pressed his face further into his hands. He hadn’t been keeping count – he wasn’t sure if _Kurt_ had been keeping count – and Tina was still resolutely _not paying attention_. Blaine tilted his head up and breathed out harshly, turning to look at Kurt – “How – how many?” he asked. Kurt raised an eyebrow at him.

“You weren’t counting?” Kurt returned his question with another question, one hand positioned on Blaine’s lower back, the other still stroking his sore ass. “I wasn’t counting, either – Tina?”

_Stop asking Tina –_

**_SMACK._ **

Fuck, that hurt. Blaine closed his eyes and bit his lip, surging forward with the force of the last spank. Kurt hummed quietly to himself before saying quietly, “That was for not paying attention. And now we’re going to start over again—” Blaine jerked his head up a little, but Tina and Mike were quietly wrapped up in each other, Mike straddling Tina’s lap as he kissed down her neck and her head was thrown back and Kurt’s hand landed on his ass another time “— _pay attention, Blaine_ ,” he ordered. Blaine let out a low groan, dropping his head down to his hands. “Count this time, would you?”

Kurt almost sounded exasperated, bored, and Blaine wondered if maybe he really only was doing this for what he perceived to be Blaine’s benefit. If Kurt didn’t want to do this, and was only doing what he thought Blaine wanted. Except Blaine doesn’t want this – Blaine has never wanted this. Blaine never wanted to be used for the benefit of others – didn’t want to be used and then tossed aside afterwards. He didn’t want to be ignored, to be talked about as if he wasn’t there when he was – to have Kurt talk to everyone else, ask everyone else about something that was so personally theirs. This wasn’t what they had agreed on. He wasn’t sure if this was anything _any_ of them had agreed on. He didn’t know why Tina wasn’t paying attention, why Mike wasn’t speaking up, and why Kurt just _wasn’t stopping –_

_Smack, smack – **SMACK.**_

_“Pavarotti!”_ Blaine shouted, shaking his head. His shoulders quaked with the exertion, his body shaking with it.

“Blaine – Blaine, what?” Kurt asked, his hand pausing, holding softly to the small of Blaine’s back.

“Pavarotti,” Blaine gasped out, shaking his head a little, still shaking a little. Kurt pulled his hands away, and Blaine let out a soft sob.

“Pavarotti – _Pavarotti_. Stop, Kurt – _please_.”

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

_“Have you thought about your safe word?” Kurt asked the next night they settled together, Blaine’s head on Kurt’s chest, Kurt’s fingers in Blaine’s hair. “It’s the last thing we need to put on the contract, love.”_

_Blaine hummed, turning his head a little. He rested his chin on Kurt’s chest and blinked up at him, smiling softly. “I have thought about it,” Blaine said, licking his lips. He leaned up and started to pepper Kurt’s jaw with soft, nibbling kisses. “I was thinking Pavarotti.”_

_“Pavarotti?” Kurt repeated around a laugh, wrinkling his nose at Blaine. Blaine leaned up to kiss the tip of it, laughing as he pulled away to watch him. “Seems a little –“_

_“—perfect,” Blaine interrupted to finish the sentence, still laughing a little, light and airy and so carefree; it was the first time he had felt so in a long time, like Kurt had taken all of his worries away with the knowledge that, soon, he’d have this and so, so much more. “I know that the safeword is supposed to remind you not to take things to far – to stop you from going too far, but that seems… harsh? I don’t know – I wanted ours to also… remind us of how far we’ve come? So as – so that we aren’t disappointed or – or **whatever** when we use it.”_

_Kurt was quiet for a while, and they just laid there watching each other after Blaine had finished speaking. His hands were tightly holding to Blaine’s hips, and his thumbs were casually rubbing against his hipbones. Blaine smiled at him, reaching up to brush some of the hair off of his face fondly. Finally, Kurt smiled and said, “How did I ever get so lucky to find someone as wonderful as you?”_

_“It’s funny,” Blaine responded with another cheeky little smile, leaning down again to press another kiss to Kurt’s jaw, mouthing his way up to his ear, “because I often think the very same thing. About you.”_

_Kurt laughed and pushed Blaine over so that he was beneath him, settling his weight on top and smiling down at him. He reached up to press light kisses all over Blaine’s face, this time, starting at his forehead and peppering them around until he reached Blaine’s lips. He kissed him soft and slow, moving his lips lightly before he pulled away to murmur, “Pavarotti it is, then.”_

_To which Blaine hummed into the next kiss, pulling back to quietly agree. “Pavarotti, yes,” he said quietly. Kurt smiled._

_“We have a contract to sign, then,” Kurt said, unable to hide his impossibly wide grin. Blaine’s face wrinkled considerably under the size of his own matching grin._

_“That we do.”_

 

The first thing Blaine was really conscious of was that his hands were no longer tied up, nor were his ankles. His wrists were still crossed, but pressed limply to his own chest. His knees were drawn up to his stomach, and his ankles were crossed as well. He was lying on his side on something much softer than the couch, and he was wearing a pair of boxers. And his collar – at some point, someone had thought to put his collar on him.

There were voices by the door – and he recognized them as Kurt and Tina, who were whispering furiously at each other. It sounded like an argument, though Blaine couldn’t quite hear the exact phrasings of what was being said. He made a soft noise and shifted on the bed, turning so that he was lying on his back. He made a startled noise, groaning quietly when his sore ass hit the mattress; the conversation at the doorway abruptly stopped, and, suddenly, there were hands pushing him back onto his side. A kiss was pressed to his temple, and the same strong hands that had helped him right himself were now gently sliding down his sides.

“Hey, beautiful,” Kurt whispered, pressing another soft kiss to his temple. “I miss you when you go off like that, but I do need you to stay with me now, okay? Can you stay on your side like this? I don’t want you to hurt yourself anymore.”

Blaine frowned a little and shifted on the bed, but Kurt’s voice was back in his ear, shushing him quietly as he continued to gently rub up and down his arm. Tina appeared in Blaine’s line of sight, and he tilted his head up to look at her. She looked small and nervous, fidgeting awkwardly with her fingers. “Kurt,” she asked quietly, and Blaine hated just how unhappy she looked, “is there anything I can do?”

“I’d say you’ve done enough.” The tone of Kurt’s voice changed so drastically, falling away from the gentle reassurance and landing in a pool of quiet anger; it made Blaine shiver once, and he fell back into Kurt’s embrace when that only made Kurt’s hands tighten on his sides. “Everything is where it usually is in the room?” Kurt asked, and Tina nodded. “Then please, _please_ just give us some time.”

“I’m sorry, Kurt, really—”

“We’ll talk about it when Blaine isn’t scared shitless, Tina – _please_ ,” Kurt said, and Tina nodded quietly. She hesitated for a moment before she reached out and ran a hand through Blaine’s curls. He turned his head up to look at her, and she bit her lip.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, and he frowned at her. She was gone before he could ask what for, and he quickly forgot the question when he felt Kurt’s fingers slip down to gently tug at his collar. He let out a soft breath and relaxed, letting Kurt tug him along a little. He turned his head and met Kurt’s eye, and Kurt smiled at him so gently that Blaine’s heart hurt a little.

“I need you to drink something, okay?” Kurt asked quietly, rubbing up and down Blaine’s arm gently. “I’m going to move you, alright? I’m going to try not to hurt you, but I need you to tell me if it gets to be too much, okay?”

Blaine nodded, his mouth too dry to voice any of the questions rushing through his head. He was panicking, a little, knowing that Tina left him alone with Kurt again, knowing just how far Tina had pushed Kurt already and – this couldn’t be very safe, could it?

“Wrap your arms around my neck, beautiful,” Kurt instructed him in another whisper. His arms were sore, his movements were lethargic, but he eventually managed to clasp his hands behind Kurt’s neck. Kurt tugged at his legs a little, letting Blaine’s knees rest in the crook of his elbow. With a strength that still manages to surprise Blaine, Kurt picked him up gently. He shuffled to the edge of the bed with Blaine still pressed tightly to his chest before he swung his legs over the side and settled Blaine in his lap, his sore ass hanging between the space in Kurt’s legs so that no real pressure was applied to it. Blaine tucked his face into Kurt’s neck, closing his eyes and letting out a breath.

“No,” Kurt said quietly, squeezing Blaine’s arm. “No, love, I need you to stay with me, okay? We have to talk, beautiful. You know we do.”

Blaine made a frustrated noise into Kurt’s neck, but Kurt just squeezed his arm again until Blaine opened his eyes. There was a water bottle, uncapped, right in front of his face. “Take a few sips of this for me, love,” Kurt said, and Blaine sighed. He took the bottle anyway, taking a couple sips. “That’s my good boy,” Kurt whispered, and Blaine stilled, his entire body stiffening.

“I –“ Blaine started to say, then stopped. Kurt hushed him again, his grip on Blaine tightening a little. Kurt kissed the top of Blaine’s curls, and Blaine closed his eyes against the onslaught of feelings that washed over him. “Kurt – I—“

“Take a couple more sips, love,” Kurt said, squeezing his sides. “Your voice sounds – I promise, I _promise_ , you can talk in a little bit, okay? Just keep sipping that water for me, love. Be a good boy.”

Blaine whined, his cheeks reddening a little at the words. Kurt just hushed him again, pressing another kiss to his forehead. “Oh, beautiful,” he whispered there, shaking his head as he readjusted his grip on Blaine’s body, “I wish I could fix this easily, I really do. I’m so – so sorry for leaving you alone for so long.”

Blaine frowned, squirming a little in Kurt’s lap. “… Sir?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, beautiful,” Kurt answered immediately, rubbing his back gently. “I’m here.”

“You’re –“ Blaine cut himself off again, making a noise. He shifted in Kurt’s arms again, pressing himself closer. He paused, thought about it, then asked, shyly, “You’re – back?”

Kurt was quiet for a long time, just rubbing up and down his back silently, before he pressed a kiss to Blaine’s hair and murmured quietly, “I’m back, love. And I am – so, _so_ sorry for ever leaving.”

It was like a dam had broken; everything came rushing out of Blaine all at once. The tension and anxiety of having waited so long for Kurt to come back, the adrenaline of having to use his safeword, the uneasiness that had plagued his stomach since they had come into the apartment and _weeks_ of having gone without his proper Dom had just bubbled up and over, leaving Blaine to do nothing but snuggle closer and begin to sob harshly into Kurt’s neck.

Kurt just pulled him closer and gently rubbed his back through it, whispering assurances into his hair, pressing soft kisses to his temple, waiting patiently for Blaine to get it all out of his system. It took a while – Blaine lost track of how long he sat in Kurt’s arms, sobbing – but eventually his sobs lessened to the point that they weren’t completely wracking his whole body. Kurt continued to shush him through the last few moments of his breakdown, carefully cradling Blaine’s body close as he reached up to gently clean his face.

“Oh, my poor, poor beautiful boy,” Kurt said, cooing the words right into Blaine’s skin as he peppered kisses across his jaw to his lips, a little wet and tinged with salt. He kissed Blaine gently, lightly, like a whisper, before he pulled away to look over his face. “It’s been an awful couple of weeks, hasn’t it?”

Blaine couldn’t even form a coherent sentence to respond with; he merely nodded his head and whimpered, attempting to press his face back into Kurt’s neck. “No, no, my beautiful boy,” Kurt said quietly, moving just a bit out of the way. “No hiding from me today.”

Blaine whined again, squeezing his eyes shut, “Kurt — Sir – _please_.”

“No, beautiful,” Kurt repeated, shaking his head. He reached around and pressed a hand to Blaine’s face, tilting his head up so that they were looking at each other. “I don’t want you hiding from me, not anymore.”

Kurt shushed Blaine gently when he started to whimper again, pressing a finger to Blaine’s lips to still any more sounds from escaping him. “That’s what you’ve been doing, love – don’t even try to deny it. I know that I wasn’t really here – and that’s why I can’t bring myself to punish you – but you haven’t been honest. With me. With yourself. With Tina.”

Blaine didn’t respond, mostly because he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to talk. He licked his lips and watched Kurt quietly, sniffling a little. He wiped at his face anxiously, a little embarrassed by the tear tracks down his face. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to crying in front of Kurt, but rather that he just felt so completely overwhelmed by the entire situation in a way that just felt… silly. “When –“ he started, but broke off to clear his throat, stomach twisting with how rough his voice still sounds. Kurt urged him to take another sip of water from the near-empty bottle, and Blaine took the moment necessary to quietly sip at it before he continued speaking, “When – how did you – you remember now, right? I – when you said you’re back, you mean that—”

“I mean that I’m back – me,” Kurt said, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s forehead, his nose, his cheek, pressing them into his skin like he couldn’t help himself, and Blaine was so touch-starved that he just closed his eyes and breathed, letting it happen. “I – I don’t know how. I just know that – that when you – when you used your safeword, something just – it snapped.” Kurt took another deep breath, pulling Blaine closer on his lap, still careful of his sore, bruised ass. He stroked gently down Blaine’s arm as he kept talking, his voice pitched low and gentle, and Blaine opened his eyes to watch Kurt’s face. “I – I had no idea what I was doing and then suddenly I knew exactly what I was doing and how wrong it was and I had this overwhelming need to make it right, to protect you, to just –“

Blaine hummed, leaning forward just a bit to press a kiss back to Kurt’s neck. Kurt sighed, breaking off the sentence and letting it just remain silent for a moment, letting them both process it. Kurt’s memories hadn’t been casually popping into their life in the time that they had been missing – and it was devastating, so completely, irrationally overwhelming how the situation had been: all or nothing.

“Tina tells me that was her intention,” Kurt said after a while, and Blaine slowly processed that information. He knew they should talk about it, knew that it was important for them to discuss that, but Blaine just – he didn’t want to talk about Tina. Didn’t want to talk about Mike. He wanted this to be theirs, again. He wanted Kurt to be his Sir and he wanted to just be _Kurt’s_. “She – said that she wanted to force your hand, she thought that maybe it would take an extreme to trigger my memories, she said—”

“Sir,” Blaine protested weakly, shaking his head again. He pulled back and looked at Kurt with wet eyes, licking his lips. “I really – I really don’t want to talk right now.”

“Beautiful,” Kurt sighed, shaking his head. He dragged his hand up the length of Blaine’s arm, fingers tracing delicately over his shoulder, gently pressing into the collar around his neck, “you know we have to talk.”

Blaine shook his head. “I – I don’t want to talk, Sir.”

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt said, and Blaine shivered in his grip, closing his eyes. His name sounded like a warning from Kurt’s lips, and Blaine pressed his own together to keep from speaking. “You’ve done a lot of not talking over the past couple of weeks, beautiful. We really need to – just discuss what happened.”

Kurt shifted again, dragging his fingers up to Blaine’s face, tilting his chin so that he was looking Kurt in the eye again. “Are you comfortable, beautiful? I know this isn’t going to be a short discussion.”

Blaine shifted in his grip, biting his lip, “Could we maybe –could we lie down?”

“Of course,” Kurt said quietly, pressing another kiss to Blaine’s temple. “You want to lay down on your stomach or on your side?”

“On my – I want you to hold me,” Blaine said, licking his lips. Kurt pressed another kiss to Blaine’s cheek, letting out a breath.

“Okay, beautiful, okay,” Kurt soothed him, rubbing up and down his arm quietly, “Can you stand up for me?”

Blaine wasn’t quite confident in his legs, and he really didn’t want to move out of Kurt’s grip, but he could try – he _would_ try. For Kurt. He nodded shakily, and kept a firm grip on Kurt’s arm as he carefully slid out of his grip. His knees shook a little as he stood awkwardly beside the bed for the moment it took Kurt to lie down on his back. The minute Kurt was settled, Blaine climbed on the bed, laying half on top of Kurt with his head pillowed against Kurt’s chest.

Kurt allowed him a few more moments of quiet before he gently squeezed Blaine’s body closer, “When did you first feel uncomfortable with what was happening?”

“Today?” Blaine asked, mostly to delay having to truly answer. By the noise Kurt made, he hadn’t exactly been subtle about it.

“Since the accident, Blaine,” Kurt whispered into his hair, pressing a comforting kiss there. Blaine let out a breath, closing his eyes and pressing his nose gently into Kurt’s chest. He took a deep breath and then moved his face again so he could speak more clearly.

“After that night I spent at Tina’s? After – when we started to try again.”

Kurt hummed, his body stiffening with displeasure. “Why didn’t you say something, beautiful?”

Blaine blushed, biting his lip; it seemed silly, now, just how completely he had lost faith in his Sir, how completely he had lost faith in _Kurt_. Here he was, back where they had always been, just a few weeks of time in between, but still here, like he always promised he would be. How could Blaine have doubted that, even for a minute?

“I need you to answer me, Blaine,” Kurt said after another long moment of silence wherein Blaine continued to mentally torture himself. Kurt’s hand started rubbing a soft path up and down Blaine’s spine, soothing him silently. “I promise, sweetheart, I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” Blaine asked, and he wondered if Kurt could hear the silent, _“You should be,”_ that he was thinking.

“No, sweetheart, I’m not,” Kurt said with such finality that Blaine again felt silly, because _of course_ Kurt understood. “I wasn’t here with you the way I usually am – I know that it must have been hard, Blaine. I can’t imagine what you went through – I can’t believe half of the things I did and said, looking back—” he started to stroke Blaine’s back a little bit more firmly, making a soft shushing noise when Blaine started to protest “—so I can’t be angry at you for doing what you think you had to do, love. I’m just trying to understand where your mind was at, and I’m trying to figure out where we stand now, okay? You won’t be punished for anything you say to me now.”

Blaine nodded against Kurt’s chest, licking his lips. He took a deep breath, squeezing Kurt’s waist tightly as he let it out slowly. “I didn’t say anything because I was afraid of scaring you – not – not _you_ , you, but – you didn’t remember _anything_. Not the beginning or the in between or the present. It was like – it was like we were back to right after college, right after we got back together, right after everything. And I just – I wasn’t sure if – if—”

“You thought I’d leave you,” Kurt said, and Blaine heard the silent _“again_ ” in his tone. Blaine swallowed thickly, blinking back tears as he nodded. Kurt sighed, rubbing up and down Blaine’s back as he considered it. “I’m sure – I’m sure me walking out on you that – that first night didn’t help, Blaine – God, I’m so sorry.”

“No – _no_ ,” Blaine protested, because how could Kurt apologize for something he couldn’t help? He hadn’t asked for the concussion; he hadn’t asked to lose his memories. “I’m sure – it must have been so overwhelming for you.”

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt said quietly, and he sounded almost disappointed; Blaine shivered at the tone. “Sometimes, baby, I wish you were a little bit more selfish.”

Blaine was quiet after that, not sure what he was supposed to say to that. Kurt didn’t say anything for a while, either, but he kept rubbing gently along Blaine’s back and sides, carefully avoiding Blaine’s hot, bruised ass.

“It is like we just went back, isn’t it?” Kurt asked quietly, breaking the silence as gently as he could. “Back to when I was so afraid of hurting you again and you were so afraid of me leaving you.” Blaine hummed against his chest, quietly nodding his affirmation. Kurt didn’t say anything for a little while, before he let out a sigh. “Blaine? Would – would making this – making us – more permanent. Do you – do you think that’d help?”

Blaine closed his eyes and held his breath for a minute. He and Kurt had decided, years ago, that they would not get married until it was made legal in all fifty states. Blaine had been adamant about it for political reasons, and Kurt had agreed because he wanted to be sure that no matter where they ended up, no one could keep them apart. There had been no rings, no big announcement, it had just been a quiet, private agreement between the two of them; marriage would wait until the world was ready for it.

While the security of a ring on his left finger was alluring, Blaine didn’t want them to get married like this, as a security blanket, as a last-ditch effort to make things right between them. He wanted their marriage to be made of love, and a celebration of not just their love, but their dedication; with each passing year, it seemed more and more likely that their dream would happen relatively soon – there was a new state announcing their pledge for marriage each year, sometimes more than one. Blaine didn’t want to give up their dreams because he was insecure, because he was so unsure of himself that he was unsure of his position with Kurt.

“No,” he told Kurt honestly after a long, tense pause. Kurt let out a breath and squeezed Blaine gently; he tilted his head up to press a kiss to Blaine’s curls. “No, I – I want to get married the way we said we’d get married. I – I don’t want – I don’t want that.”

“Thank you, beautiful,” Kurt said into his hair, and Blaine hummed a little in response, shifting his position on him. “Thank you for your honesty. Can you –“ Kurt paused again, shifting a little on the be. He brought his fingers up to Blaine’s chin, tilting it up so that they were looking into each other’s eyes again. He smiled softly, reassuring and so, so sweet, as he asked, plainly, “Can you tell me what might help this situation?”

Blaine blinked at him, biting his lip as he shook his head silently. He really didn’t know what would help; they were his stupid insecurities, really. They were the reason that they started this, and they had been doing fine, or so he had thought. Perhaps he hadn’t gotten rid of them as much as he had thought, with how easily they had all come rushing back to him once Kurt wasn’t his Sir anymore.

Because, really, it wasn’t like they could keep doing this forever. Logically, anyway, he knew that at some point – at some point, this would either boil over into something much, much more complicated than it already was, or they’d have to end it. Who was to say that his insecurities would be gone by the time they ended it?

Wearing his collar helped him feel safe, wearing his wrist band reminded him that he was Kurt’s, no questions, no concerns — that was just how it was. Maybe that was it, though. There was no disputing that Blaine was completely, absolutely Kurt’s, but there was nothing that proved that Kurt was _his_ , too. Blaine opened his eyes, tilting his head up to look at Kurt quietly, contemplatively.

“I want – I want to get you a ring,” Blaine said quietly, sniffing, considering it carefully. “Or – or a wrist band. A watch. A pair of cufflinks – I don’t care. I just – I want to get you something that you could wear every day and – and that you could remember that I’m yours, yes, but you’re _mine_. Something other people would see. Something other people would ask about. Something that you could look down at and say, ‘Oh, this? My boyfriend Blaine got it for me.’ That’s – that’s what I want.”

Kurt watched him for a minute, blue eyes carefully searching Blaine’s face, before he smiled, bright, brilliant, and so warm. It spread across his face just as quickly as it spread across Blaine’s body, from the tip of his head, all the way down to his toes. Kurt leaned his head up, and Blaine met him halfway for a kiss, pressing their lips together sweetly, before Kurt pulled away. “I would like that very much, Blaine,” Kurt said quietly, still smiling. Blaine’s stomach twisted at the praise that was woven tightly into that sentence, and Kurt reached up to brush the stray curls out of his face. “If that would make you feel better – feel safer – then I would be happy to proudly wear whatever beautiful thing you pick out.”

For the first time all night, Blaine smiled back. Kurt continued to run his fingers through Blaine’s hair, and Blaine wrinkled his nose after a little, settling back down on Kurt’s chest. They laid like that for a while, Blaine breathing in Kurt’s scent while Kurt silently ran his fingers through Blaine’s hair. After another long pause – though, this one was indisputably more comfortable – Kurt quietly asked, “Would you like to go home, beautiful? I could – I could run us a bath and rub some lotion on your ass. Make us some tea, and we could just – cuddle?”

Blaine bit his lip, closing his eyes. “No.” Blaine shook his head, taking a deep breath. Kurt’s fingers paused in his hair, and he let it out slowly. He opened his eyes and looked up at him again, licking his lips; when he found nothing but support and love in Kurt’s gaze, Blaine found the courage to keep speaking.

“I want to stay right here. And I want you to make me yours.”

 

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

“Blaine,” Kurt warned him quietly, his eyes dimming a little as he took in Blaine’s words. “Blaine, sweetheart, you know that we can’t do that – you used your safeword, which means we have to wait to try anything—”

“No,” Blaine said sharply, and Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ve been – I’ve been waiting for this since the accident, Kurt – you – _no_. You – you told me that I need to tell you what I need. That I need to trust you enough to tell you what I need. _This_ is what I need,” Blaine persisted, licking his lips and letting out a breath, shaking his head. “Kurt,” he said quietly, firmly, pushing himself up and staring down at him. He bit his lip for a second, hesitating, before he begged, quietly, “ _Please_.”

Kurt watched him, not saying anything, not moving, not doing much else beyond his staring. He lifted a hand to press a finger to Blaine’s lips to keep him from speaking, quietly taking in all of the information and, more importantly, the look on Blaine’s face. Blaine schooled his expression as much as he could, but was unable to really help the level of earnestness that he _felt_.

“Stand up,” Kurt finally said, letting the order fall off of his lips in lieu of an actual agreement. Blaine’s body hummed as he pushed himself up to stand, knees shaking as he watched Kurt slide off the opposite side of the bed. “Lay down. On your stomach.”

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine said quietly, and he moved himself back onto the bed, lying flat on his stomach with his arms at his sides.

“Hands,” Kurt said over his shoulder; Blaine moved his hands accordingly, reaching up to grip one of the poles on the headboard as he listened to Kurt move about the room. Drawers opened and closed and things were dropped at Blaine’s feet on the bed, but he didn’t look, and he didn’t move. “Such a good boy,” Kurt breathed out, sighing happily. “My perfect little boy.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Blaine said, hoping to whisper and hating how his voice pitched higher and cracked at Kurt’s title. Kurt ran a hand smoothly down Blaine’s back, soothing him gently.

“I’m just going to rub some cream on your ass, beautiful,” Kurt told him quietly, and Blaine relaxed a little, nodding his head. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths in and out. He hissed when the cold cream first made contact, but then relaxed as Kurt smoothly started to spread it around and rub it in. It cooled down the heat of his tortured ass, and Kurt’s rubbing turned from efficient to something a bit more tender, causing Blaine to spread his legs a little and let out a soft moan. “I want to see your face, beautiful,” Kurt said after a while, his hand pausing on Blaine’s ass. “Do you think you’d be comfortable if you were lying on your back?”

Blaine wasn’t sure, but he wanted to try. He rolled over, quietly, keeping his hands up near the headboard. He flinched a little when his ass settled, but it was more of a dull burn than the excruciating pain it had been earlier. He shifted a little, testing, before he sighed and relaxed on the bed.

“Use your words, beautiful,” Kurt said quietly, rubbing down his chest smoothly. “I need to hear you say that it’s fine.”

“It’s fine, Sir,” Blaine said softly, smiling. Kurt smiled back, leaning down to kiss him.

“I’m not going to tie your hands or gag you,” Kurt said after he pulled away, muttering the words into Blaine’s lips. He pulled back and gently tapped Blaine’s nose before he stood up, moving over to the end of the bed where all of his supplies still rested. He placed a hand gently on Blaine’s foot as he looked down at them, squeezing Blaine’s ankle before glancing up at him. “I _am_ going to blindfold you. At first.”

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine said quietly, voice a little lower than usual. Blaine wasn’t a large fan of the blindfold. Of all of his senses, sight was the one he hated being without the most. It made him feel so much more vulnerable, and that was probably what frightened him.

“It won’t be for long, beautiful,” Kurt soothed, dragging his hand down from Blaine’s ankle and up his calf, and Blaine nodded, closing his eyes. “I just want you to lie there and feel things for a while. You’ve been doing far too much thinking, baby. And I think you need to take a break.”

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine said graciously, and Kurt squeezed at his knee before he stepped up to be beside Blaine’s head. Blaine lifted his neck automatically; stomach twisting happily at the soft praise Kurt offered him at the gesture. The scarf was tied securely around his eyes, and Kurt’s fingers tugged it down, making sure Blaine couldn’t see.

“Safeword?”

“Pavarotti.”

“And when will you use that safeword?” Kurt persisted, pressing his fingers to Blaine’s chest. Blaine took a deep breath.

“Whenever I need to, Sir.”

“Good boy,” Kurt said around a smile, lifting a hand to gently stroke Blaine’s hair. He pulled away then, and Blaine was left alone.

He could still hear Kurt in the room, still knew he was here. He could hear the quiet steps Kurt was taking, could feel when he picked up or moved things on the bed. He took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing, remembering that Sir would take care of him. Sir always took care of him. Sir was back, he wasn’t going to leave Blaine again. He promised.

He stiffened, a little, at the sound of the lubricant opening, the cap popping a little. He heard Kurt squirt some of it out, heard him recap it. He spread his legs a little wider, taking another deep breath to prepare him for the intrusion, but the gentle touch of Kurt’s fingers never came. He shifted on the bed a little, turning his head and making a soft noise, unsure if he was allowed to speak.

“I’m right here, beautiful,” came Kurt’s voice from what was the far end of the room. Blaine turned his head back, biting his lip; Kurt sounded breathless, and Blaine felt so exposed. “Can you drop your arms and take your boxers off for me? I want to see you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine said quietly, pulling his hands down. He lifted his hips and dragged his boxers down, feeling his cock fall flat against his stomach with a soft smacking noise. He heard Kurt whine as he spread himself back out, dropping the boxers off the side of the bed. He stretched up, sprawling back, as he extended his arms over his head again.

“So fucking beautiful,” Kurt breathed out, and suddenly he was there, pulling of Blaine’s blindfold and capturing Blaine’s lips in a fierce kiss. Blaine groaned, opening his mouth up to Kurt’s tongue, whining a little when Kurt pulled away only moments later, taking Blaine’s bottom lip with him. He bit down on it, gently, smiling at him softly. Blaine blinked his eyes open, his breath picking up a little when he noticed that Kurt was naked. And hard.

Kurt pressed a hand to Blaine’s chest, pushing down as he pushed himself up onto the bed, swinging a leg over Blaine’s hips, straddling him quietly. He stayed poised over Blaine, not allowing any of his weight to rest against him. He watched Blaine quietly, a small smile spreading over his face before he bent down to kiss him again. He pulled away enough to murmur, “I’m going to fuck you,” before he crashed their lips together again. Blaine groaned into the kiss, blinking up at Kurt after he pulled away. Kurt pressed his hands hard to Blaine’s chest, keeping him there, as he sat back up. He reached behind him to grab a condom and the bottle of lube; he ripped the condom open and –

“Oh,” Blaine breathed out, eyes fluttering shut as Kurt unrolled the condom down Blaine’s own cock, his hand disappearing for a moment only to return covered in lube. Kurt dutifully slicked up Blaine’s cock before he held it at the base, positioning himself over it.

“Grab onto the headboard and don’t let go,” Kurt said breathily, voice barely there as he started to lower himself down onto Blaine’s cock. “And don’t you dare come until I tell you to.”

Blaine groaned loudly when Kurt sat down completely on his cock, his head tilted up and back as he nodded quickly. “Yes, — yes, Sir,” he managed to say around another groan. Kurt shifted on top of him, but didn’t move.

“I didn’t take your blindfold off just for you to close your eyes, Blaine,” Kurt said, and he bent down and tugged at Blaine’s collar until Blaine was staring up at him. “Look at me.”

Blaine blinked at him, licking his lips and nodding. “I want you to watch me, beautiful.” Blaine nodded his head, licking his lips as he shifted again. His shoulders flexed as he gripped the bed frame more tightly, and Kurt must’ve seen what he was looking for because he released Blaine’s collar and started to move.

The sensations were overwhelming. Kurt’s gaze was strong on his, their eye contact never breaking once even as Kurt’s pace grew faster and faster; the feel of Kurt’s ass around his cock was still so good, so hot, so _tight_ – it’s been a while since Kurt bottomed, and Blaine remembered why; it was very, very hard for him to last like this. Particularly when Kurt was just _taking_ from him at such an unrelenting, unforgiving, nearly _cruel_ pace. Add to all of that the fact that Blaine’s still sore ass was rubbing against the soft sheets, and it took everything in him not to close his eyes and just come right there from it all.

“Look at me,” Kurt commanded of him, and Blaine didn’t remember looking away. “Good boy – so good for me. Love your cock, beautiful. Love the way it fills me up – I want you to look. I want you to watch as your cock disappears, beautiful.”

Blaine quietly dragged his eyes down the long, lean planes of Kurt’s body, taking their time as he gazed across Kurt’s broad chest and down to his narrow waist, following the slight V of his muscles to his own cock, hard, pink, flushed, and bouncing with the movements of his hips – God, his glorious, wonderful hips that led to his long, lean legs – but Kurt’s ass – fuck, Blaine could spend hours just staring at Kurt’s ass.

Kurt’s ass which was smacking against his thighs as he fucked himself up and down on Blaine’s cock. Kurt’s ass which was spread out around Blaine’s cock, wrapping it up in tight, delicious heat. “Oh, God,” Blaine breathed out, his hands flexing against their grip of the headboard, fingers itching to _touch_.

“Do you see it, Blaine? Do you?” Kurt asked him quietly, breathlessly, still fucking himself down on Blaine’s cock harsh and fast. Blaine struggled to form words, much less a coherent thought, and he had absolutely no idea what Kurt was asking of him. He just whined a little, arching his back a bit and stretching out his arms underneath Kurt. Kurt watched him quietly for a long minute before he stopped moving entirely, seated completely on Blaine’s cock. Blaine whined again desperately, arching up, wiggling his hips, but Kurt’s weight on him was unrelenting. “I don’t think you see it. I’ll have to show you.”

Kurt starts jerking at his cock, then, in the same unforgiving pace he had been fucking Blaine. Long, hard strokes that curled around the head, swiping over the sensitive parts of him before sweeping back down to the base. His other hand kept the pressure on Blaine’s chest, holding him still as Kurt quickly stroked himself to a fast, easy release on Blaine’s stomach and chest.

Blaine groaned again, thrashing beneath Kurt as he felt the first stripe of cum land on his stomach, warm and sticky, and he arched up as he felt himself get covered with more. He loved it when Kurt marked him; loved it when Sir made him _his_.

“Don’t you dare come, beautiful,” Kurt panted, reaching down to grab at the base of Blaine’s cock. He held the condom as he slowly slid his body up and off Blaine’s still aching cock. He pulled the condom off, rolling off the bed to drop it off into the waste basket. He stood there, beside the bed, body slick with sweat and pink with a faint blush as he stared down at Blaine, writhing on the bed like the needy little mess that he was.

“Sir – Sir, _please_ , please –“ Blaine started to beg, unable to stop the words from falling from his lips the longer Kurt just stood there, staring, without _touching_ like he wanted. Kurt pressed a hand to Blaine’s chest again, stilling him.

“Please what?” Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Touch me, Sir – _please_ ,” Blaine continued to beg. Kurt smiled down at him a little wickedly, chuckling quietly.

“I am touching you.”

Blaine wasn’t proud of the low pitched whine that left the back of his throat, but he was far too strung out to really care, either. He strained a little, flexing his fingers again, but holding his position. He arched up a little, as if trying to force Kurt’s hand to move lower. Kurt chuckled, pressing back down against Blaine’s chest.

“Patience, beautiful,” Kurt said, and he moved back on the bed. He slid down so that he was lying between Blaine’s legs; he dragged his hand down Blaine’s chest, swirling the cooling cum on his stomach before pressing his hand on Blaine’s hip, holding him still. The moment Blaine realized what was about to happen was the exact same moment Kurt bent his head down and sucked the head of Blaine’s cock into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck!”

He could feel Kurt smiling around his cock, but he had since closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation. His hands flexed a little against the headboard, and Kurt had brought both hands down to hold onto Blaine’s hips. He felt trapped in the best way, completely powerless to do anything other than feel, and Kurt was a master at this.

He bobbed his head up and down Blaine’s shaft, taking more and more, hollowing out his cheeks and _sucking_. Blaine groaned, trying to move, but he couldn’t and – _fuck_ , if that didn’t make it more intense. He whined a little, opening his eyes. He tilted his head up, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kurt’s face, only to find his boyfriend – his beloved Dom – staring right back at him. Blaine’s breath caught – completely unprepared for the eye contact, and Kurt didn’t relent. He kept watching Blaine as he worked over his cock, fingers tightening on his hips enough that Blaine could feel it through his skin.

He wasn’t going to last. He wasn’t going to last at all. He knew that, and, by the look on Kurt’s face, Kurt knew that, too. He had been close when Kurt had been fucking down on him earlier, had been so, so close when Kurt had jerked off while still sitting on his cock, and he had nearly lost it when Kurt had first sucked his cock into his mouth. He opened his mouth, closed it, let out a sharp whine and pressed up as much as Kurt would allow him.

And then, Kurt was shifting, pressing one arm across Blaine’s hips and using the other to grab at Blaine’s cock. He pulled off with a dirty slurping noise, a trail of spit dragging from his bottom lip to the tip of Blaine’s cock. He licked his lips, breaking the line, and he smiled at Blaine, soft and fond, affectionate and _loving_. It was so – so typically Kurt, and so wonderfully perfect in that moment, that Blaine couldn’t help it when it bubbled out of him, _“God, I love you so much.”_

“Then come for me, beautiful,” Kurt said quietly, stroking Blaine’s cock once, twice, and then –

“Oh,” Blaine breathed out, throwing his head back, body arching up into it as he finally just let go.

His body fell back against the bed as Kurt stroked him through it, his body flush with pleasure, his mind blanking out entirely on everything that wasn’t the look in Kurt’s eyes and the smile on his face and the _love_ that was wrapped around him even tighter than Kurt’s hand on his cock, which –

He let out a soft noise and pulled away, oversensitivity quickly taking over the otherwise blissful haze that his orgasm left him in. Kurt hummed quietly, letting go of Blaine’s cock and gently petting his hip. Blaine made a soft noise, tilting his head up to look at Kurt, finally, and the sight was just too much.

Kurt looked thoroughly debauched, a thin strip of Blaine’s cum already drying on his cheekbone, his eyes blown wide and his mouth tilted in the most smug little smirk. Blaine groaned and squirmed on the bed, closing his eyes as he felt everything slowly come back; he felt Kurt’s cum on his stomach, the slight burn of his ass, and the general heaviness of his body post-orgasm. Then, he felt Kurt slide up, dragging his body right on top of Blaine’s, rubbing their skin together until Kurt was laying right on top of him. He groaned quietly as Kurt’s weight settled, making a soft noise when Kurt’s fingers pressed against his chin.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and Blaine opened his eyes. He bit his lip when he saw the cum there, but when he tilted his head to catch Kurt’s eye, his stomach clenched with the realization. It hit him, in that moment, what this had all been about. What Kurt had wanted him to see. What Kurt had needed to show him. Kurt lifted himself up, leaning his weight up on his arm. He moved up, dragging his hand down to Blaine’s stomach where he scraped a finger around the drying cum there. Still, he kept Blaine’s eye contact.

“You are _mine_ , beautiful,” Kurt said, fiercely. “No matter what happens. Nothing – _nothing_ will change that.”

Blaine nodded, pressing his lips together, his chest feeling tight and heavy and this was so overwhelming, but Kurt was there, his weight pressing into Blaine’s side, reminding him that he was not alone in this. Kurt had him. He was okay.

“You are mine, beautiful, we both know that’s true,” Kurt continued when Blaine caught his gaze again. He raised the same hand, and swiped his thumb across his cheekbone, collecting Blaine’s cum where it rested. He reached down and pressed the tip of his thumb into Blaine’s mouth, smiling at him softly as he finished the thought, “But I am so _desperately_ yours, Blaine. Don’t you _dare_ forget that ever again.”

Blaine sucked the cum dutifully off of Kurt’s finger, pulling away to whisper the words he felt to his entire core:

“Yes, Sir.”


	17. Chapter 17

Today was the day.

Blaine had had a hard time sleeping the night before, despite all of Kurt’s best tricks – sleepy blowjobs, cuddling, and even a warm mug of milk after everything else failed to settle Blaine down. Eventually, Kurt just wore himself out, snuffling quietly into Blaine’s curls when he finally drifted off, leaving Blaine to hazily draw patterns on Kurt’s bare chest. He was restless and anxious and being a little ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it; he was excited.

Finally, around six-thirty, Blaine figured he had waited long enough. He carefully slid out of Kurt’s embrace, smiling down at him fondly at the mild protests Kurt whined out. He pet at Kurt’s chest quietly, biting his lip when Kurt sighed happily, rolling over and falling back asleep. He only allowed himself another brief moment of watching before he silently crept out of the bedroom, padding his way down to the kitchen.

He moved on auto-pilot, mostly, mind still buzzing with the significance of today. He brewed the coffee, first, because Kurt would appreciate that the moment Blaine woke him up, before he moved to their fridge and cabinets, attempting to decide what exactly he wanted to cook for breakfast. He didn’t want to wake Kurt until seven-thirty at the absolute earliest, because Kurt did enjoy his mornings, but he didn’t enjoy them nearly as much on the weekends when he was able to sleep in. That gave him an hour to prepare whatever he wanted to make, which meant that he should probably pick something a little bit more complicated. That’s how Blaine found himself washing and chopping up potatoes, peppers, and onions. He set those aside and worked on the eggs, figuring he could make them both some omelets and some home fries and –

“Mmm, someone’s anxious this morning,” Kurt said quietly, and Blaine startled, turning to look at his boyfriend casually leaning against the door jamb. Kurt smiled at him fondly, though his face melted around a yawn. He moved further into the kitchen, going immediately for the coffee.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Blaine said immediately, setting down the eggs in his hand and turning to look at Kurt, biting his lip. Kurt waved a hand at him dismissively before pulling two mugs out of their cabinet. He started to prepare coffee for the both of them, shrugging his shoulders.

“I can never sleep when you’re not there,” Kurt said, his voice almost indifferent, terribly casual in a way that made Blaine’s stomach twist. He let out a long breath, and Kurt turned to smile at him, “No matter how careful you are.”

Blaine accepted his mug of coffee, blowing on the hot liquid before he took a small sip, sighing happily when it came to taste just right. Kurt moved closer, crowding him up against the counter, pressing mocha-flavored kisses to Blaine’s lips. “My perfect boy, always so careful, always so eager to please.”

Blaine made a soft noise, and Kurt chuckled against his lips. He kissed Blaine a little lazily for another minute before he pulled away to yawn again. His face crinkled up and Blaine leaned up on tip toes to kiss his forehead, turning back to the counter behind him. He set down his coffee cup and relaxed into Kurt’s grip when his boyfriend slipped his arms around his waist from behind. He sagged against Kurt’s hold, tilting his neck when Kurt started to pepper kisses all around his ear. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked, breathily. “Because I’m kind of hoping it’s you.”

“Mmm,” Blaine groaned quietly, pressing his lips together. He rubbed his ass back against Kurt’s groin, chuckling himself when Kurt moaned in approval. “I figured I would be more like… dessert.”

“Dessert at six thirty in the morning, Blaine Anderson? How _naughty_ ,” Kurt teased him, nipping at his ear again before he disappeared. Blaine started cracking the eggs into a bowl, shivering when he heard Kurt pull out a chair at the kitchen table, sitting down. He started to beat them gently, letting them rest as he takes another sip of his coffee. He turned around and raised an eyebrow at Kurt.

“I learn from the best – what do you want in your omelet?”

Kurt threw his head back and laughed without abandon, and Blaine allowed himself another moment of just watching. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry at the exposure of Kurt’s long, beautiful neck. His eyes drifted down across Kurt’s collarbones to the wide expanse of his chest that tapered down to his little waist, ending with a soft patch of hair that Blaine knew disappeared to something else entirely. He cleared his throat, and Kurt stopped laughing long enough to gesture vaguely. “I’m getting over the whiplash of this conversation, beautiful – just make whatever you feel like. I promise to love it, regardless.”

That promise hung heavy in Blaine’s gut, and he didn’t have a voice to answer with anymore. He just nodded, smiling, before turning back to their fridge and pulling out a packet of mushrooms along with a packet of cheese. He resumed his cooking, humming softly to himself as he worked, all too aware of Kurt’s eyes watching him.

“Sing something for me, beautiful?” Kurt requested when Blaine started to pour the first omelet into the pan. Blaine turned his head to look at him, confused, and Kurt’s cheeks tinged pink as he avoided Blaine’s eye. Blaine couldn’t help the amused grin that crossed his face at the sight; Kurt’s asked him to do a _lot_ more than that in years prior, but _this_ is what he got embarrassed over? “It’s been a while since I’ve heard your voice, Blaine – please.”

Blaine started to sing the song he had been humming absentmindedly – Katy Perry’s latest something or other that Mike had been dancing to the week before, Tina blasting it from the speakers while Kurt and Blaine had shared a bottle of wine, laughing at their friends – while still making sure that nothing was burning on the stove. As he started to plate their breakfast, he heard Kurt join in, and his breath caught along the end of the refrain. Years later, Kurt still managed to take his breath away when he sang.

He brought the plates over, moving back to get both his own mug of coffee and the pot, setting everything up just right before he sat down at the table. Kurt winked at him before digging into his own breakfast, making appropriate noises of enjoyment in between smothering Blaine with compliments to his cooking. Blaine blushed and shook his head, sipping his coffee delicately. Kurt shook his head right back, and they both fell into silence as they continued to eat their breakfast.

When their plates were empty, Kurt stood and took them, clearing the table quietly and efficiently. He pressed a hand to Blaine’s shoulder, keeping him down in his seat, before he came over and wiped off the table as well. “Stay there, beautiful,” he said quietly before leaving the room, coming back a moment later with a black box. Blaine’s stomach twisted up in anticipation as he watched Kurt watch him. He shifted in his seat a little, anxious, before he settled.

“May I go get something from the bedroom, Sir?”

“Be quick,” Kurt said firmly, and Blaine scrambled out of his seat to comply. He quickly hurried into the bedroom, going through his bedside drawer – the only part of the house where he’s allowed his privacy – and picking up the black box. He held it tightly in his hands as he made his way back into the kitchen, unable to stop beaming with pride as he sat back down and set the box in front of him. Kurt smiled at him fondly.

“I take it you already know what today is,” Kurt said, and Blaine nodded, matching Kurt’s grin. Today was Day 8. They had signed their new contract seven days ago, and this was the first day of their new life together after the week-long waiting period between the contracts. “And you’re sure?”

Blaine nodded, remembering to use his words a moment later – “Yes, Sir,” he said honestly, because if Blaine had ever been sure about anything at all in his life to the utmost of certainty, it was Kurt. Kurt smiled at him, bright and impossibly enamored, and extended his hand. Blaine immediately dropped his hand in Kurt’s.

Kurt tugged gently at Blaine’s old, worn wristband, and something warm settled in Blaine’s stomach. Besides his collar, that leather wristband had been Blaine’s way of proudly showing what he had always known; that he was Kurt’s. Kurt’s playful tugs along the wristband had always been a surefire way to get Blaine’s stomach to clench pleasurably; Blaine enjoyed knowing that Kurt liked seeing that Blaine was his just as much as Blaine liked it. Loved it. Kurt knowingly smiled at him, aware of how Blaine was responding to what he was doing. When Blaine smiled back, Kurt let go of the wristband and reached for the black box beside him.

“I know what we agreed on,” Kurt began quietly, “but I also know _you_. And I know that there are things that you aren’t telling me – and that’s fine.” He said it quickly, like he wanted to tell Blaine how he felt before Blaine had another chance to cover it up. “You don’t have to tell me everything.”

Blaine opened his mouth as if to answer, but Kurt held his hand up. Blaine closed his mouth, licking his lips as he sat back in his seat, taking his silent order to let Kurt finish. “But I wanted to do something for you – for us, I guess, in the long run, but I want you to know that this is about _you_. About what you want, and what I want for you. This is about how much I’ll always want you. How much I want you to know that I need you, too, just as much – no, _more_ than you need me, sometimes,” Kurt continued to speak, voice low and reverent, fragile in the still air between them. Blaine leaned forward in his seat again, breathing shallowly, hanging onto Kurt’s every last word. This sounded similar to their collaring ceremony, to their previous claims, to the promise rings that had come before the leather wristbands, to the flowers on a stairwell. Kurt was the quieter of the two of them; he always had been. He was more careful with his words, keeping them quiet until he knew exactly what needed to be said. When Kurt spoke up, people listened. Blaine always, _always_ listened.

“This is about you being able to look down and know that I’m yours, but so that other people can look at you and know that you’re mine, too,” Kurt said. He paused for another moment, fiddling with the edges of the box, nervous, with his free hand. Blaine stiffened considerably when Kurt pulled his hand away from Blaine’s to hold the box in both of his hands; Kurt shushed him quietly, soothing him as best he could. Blaine relaxed a little, bringing his hands back to the small black box in front of him.

“I want everyone to be able to look at you and know that we have each other,” Kurt continued softly. “And I know we promised ourselves that we would never conform our lives to what other people thought was best, but I also know that this will be the easiest way for us to both have that security, you know? I want you to have this ring so that people will look at you and see _claimed_. Sure, to everyone else it’ll look like married. Engaged. But you and I will know what it really means. What it has always meant. I want to marry you, Blaine. I’ve wanted to marry you since I was seventeen and so damn smitten with your charming smile and that awful Katy Perry song—” Blaine laughed around his tears, eyes bright as Kurt opened up the box and slid it over so that he could examine the small, platinum band inside “—and we will get married. When we promised each other we would. But in the meantime, I was kind of hoping that, well, that you’d wear this. And at least let me call you mine. A bit more – permanently.”

Blaine didn’t say anything – couldn’t, really – as he pulled the little ring out of the velvet it was encased in. He flipped it over in his hand a couple times, watching it catch the light. He glanced up at Kurt, who didn’t look quite so nervous any more, but rather a little amused, a little fond, a little enamored. He smiled, anxious, nervous, so undeniably in love, and moved to slide the ring on.

“Wait,” Kurt said, quiet, quick – a little harder than he probably intended. Blaine let out a little bit of a whine, and they both chuckled anxiously. “Look at the engraving.”

Blaine flipped the ring over and looked down at it, biting his lip as he read the simple, powerful inscription laid there for his eyes only. It was almost too much.

“ _Kurt_ ,” Blaine managed, barely, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was trying his hardest to keep the tears at bay, but was not completely succeeding as a few slipped down his cheeks.

“I love you, Blaine Anderson,” Kurt said quietly, and Blaine opened his eyes to find him a lot closer. Kurt was standing above him, his fingers gently curling in Blaine’s hair. Blaine lent into the touch, closing his eyes and pressing his face into Kurt’s stomach. “I always have. I always will. I’m not going anywhere, beautiful. I will be here as long as you want me.”

“Forever,” Blaine mumbled into Kurt’s shirt, pressing his lips up against Kurt’s t-shirt, the sound slightly obstructed by the movements.

“I’m not opposed to that,” Kurt teased him, scratching at Blaine’s scalp. Blaine hummed a little, before he pulled away a little to slide the ring onto his finger. “I may or may not have awkwardly measured it while you were sleeping.”

Blaine laughed, shaking his head, turning to press his face back into Kurt’s stomach. “I really could sleep through the zombie apocalypse, couldn’t I?”

Kurt hummed a little, and Blaine laughed with him when he started to quietly chuckle. “Not to ruin a moment here, love,” Kurt said quietly, still running his fingers through Blaine’s hair, “but you know how I am about presents.”

“Oh!” Blaine said, jumping away a little to fumble awkwardly with his own box. Kurt laughed a little, and Blaine matched his smile. “This is going to be a little – um, anticlimactic after, well –“ Blaine gestured awkwardly, and Kurt shook his head, smiling still. “But, um. You said that I should – find a way to help reassure me that you’re mine every bit as much as I’m yours, and – well, I know that, typically, the Dom doesn’t wear the cuff, but I saw it and I knew it had to be yours and, well – here.”

Because Blaine was good with words when he had time to practice them, and he had practiced them for hours in front of his mirror, at the piano at work, with Mike over the phone and Tina the one time Mike hadn’t been there to answer. But Blaine had never quite been good at words when he was surprised, and he had never factored in a _proposal_ in all of his practices. He clumsily opened the box with nervous fingers, fiddling with it for a moment before presenting it to Kurt.

“It’s McQueen,” he said after a minute, holding the box up. Kurt took it with a slack jaw and wide eyes, and Blaine cleared his throat, continuing. “I know how much you love him. Idolize him, really. I’d be a little more concerned if, well—” McQueen’s death was something they didn’t discuss, much like Jessica Sanchez losing American Idol, and Lady Gaga’s last album (which Kurt claimed was still genius, but they both agreed that she maybe had hit her peak at “Born this Way”) “—but. More than that, I guess. I just – the skulls. To anyone else they would be morbid or dark or – or whatever, but I know that you’ve always found the – the _beauty_ in the wreckage.” Blaine blushed a little, his fingers picking at each other as he nervously fidgeted. “Sometimes – sometimes I think that’s the only way you could really love me the way that you do.” Blaine held a hand up this time to keep Kurt from interrupting, drawing a deep breath, letting it out shakily as he continued. “And – and to me. To me these skulls mean – they mean until death do us part. Because – because if this past month has taught me anything it is that I will love you no matter what. When you’re Sir. When you’re Kurt. When you’re everything I’ve always wanted. When you’re nothing I ever expected. I will love you forever, always, to the day that I die. That’s the beauty in the wreckage. They say that there’s only two guarantees in life – death and taxes.” Kurt laughed, and Blaine smiled, relaxing a little. “But for us – for us there has always been three. Death – and the guarantee that I will love you right up until that last day.”

“And taxes,” Kurt said quietly. Blaine shook his head, letting out another laugh.

“And taxes,” he agreed.

Blaine took another breath and pulled the cuff out of the box. Kurt dutifully held out his wrist and Blaine opened it. He fastened it around Kurt’s wrist and shut it, leaning down to press a kiss right above it. It felt weird, almost uncomfortable, to have switched roles like this. And Kurt, his beautiful, wonderful Kurt, seemed to know exactly what Blaine was thinking, because his hands were in Blaine’s hair a moment later. “Kneel for me, beautiful?” he asked quietly, and Blaine barely hesitated before sliding out of his chair and to the floor at Kurt’s feet.

“Today is the start of our new contract,” Kurt said quietly, and Blaine hummed in response. Kurt’s voice was thick and heavy with tears, and Blaine’s cheeks were a little achy from his own dried tears. “The start of our lives together, again. I promise to always love you. To always protect you. To care for you. To help guide you. To be there whenever you need me, in whatever capacity you might need me. I promise to stop if you ever need me to, and I promise to always do my best to keep you safe from whatever harm could possibly come your way. I take this cuff as a sign of my willingness to be yours for as long as you want me to be.”

He finished, tugging gently on Blaine’s hair to show that he was done speaking. Blaine cleared his throat and took a breath, letting it out slowly before he began to speak.

“I promise to trust you,” he started out as strong as he could, already feeling the cracks begin to crumble a little. Kurt’s hand in his hair served as a reminder that he would be there to catch him if Blaine did fall. “To love you. I promise to tell you the things that I need, even if that means I need to stop. I take this ring, this bracelet, this collar, as a sign of my willingness to submit to you. I am yours, for as long as you want me to be.”

Kurt tugged on Blaine’s hair, pulling until Blaine was standing before him. Kurt reached up and gently cupped Blaine’s cheek in his palm, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone. He smiled at him, eyes still bright with tears, and Blaine leaned forward to kiss a few off of Kurt’s cheek. Kurt laughed, turning his head and nuzzling his nose just under Blaine’s ear. He leaned up and whispered the one word Blaine could feel all the way down to his bones: “Forever.”

“Forever,” Blaine echoed back, and he smiled when Kurt pulled away to press their lips together in a soft, sweet kiss. Kurt took his hand softly in his, gently twisting the ring. Blaine could feel the inscription settling in through his skin, through his bones, to his very soul.

_Forever yours. Forever Mine. Forever beautiful._


End file.
